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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346592">Burn Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins'>coplins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breathplay, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Humor, Incest, Kinda? I mean Sam is a teen, Look I wondered how dark I could make these boys and still love them, Lucifer/Sam/others, M/M, Multi, Murder Husbands, Murderer Lucifer, Power Imbalance, Protective Lucifer, Psychotic Sam, READ AUTHORS NOTE, Sadist Lucifer, Sexism, Sibling Incest, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Violence, Zero morals Lucifer, lucifer/others - Freeform, sexually abused Sam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:21:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>45,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's seen the boy around. Of course, he has. His neighbor, Pastor Bonahue, adopted the boy ten years ago, so Nick's seen the boy. He hasn't thought much about him. He keeps himself busy, trying to stave off bad impulses and keep himself out of trouble, taking care of his plants at his retail nursery Luci's Eden, named after the name he forsook when his father disowned him. But his resentful equilibrium is disturbed when the now teenaged boy, Sam Winchester, wanders into his shop. Little by little the sassy teen lures Nick back into old behaviors, waking up the beast inside him, and very inconveniently makes him fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(Lucifer/Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester), Lucifer/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Boy Next Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>IMPORTANT! </b><br/>These characters you're supposed to be rooting for are bad/evil/immoral and very, very damaged. Lucifer, under the fake name Nick, is <i>aware</i> of what is right and wrong even if he doesn't act according to it. Thanks to that we'll get a glimpse of why things shouldn't be happening. Sam, and later on Dean, have gotten their morals obliterated by years of abuse. This is dark. The end goal is Lucifer/Sam/Dean but that's near the end of the story. There are also OCs that get caught in the middle of Sam and Luci's toxic love, including M/F sex scenes. I'll put (spoilery) trigger warnings in the endnotes of each chapter if they're needed. Also, for once the age difference makes for horribly unbalanced dynamics. This is meant to be murder husbands (sort of, but very few actual murders this far in the chapters written), but despite it all, I'm hoping you'll find it entertaining. :)</p>
<p>As a side note, if you have already read Meet the Family, you might recognize stuff from it. It's the same Lucifer Williams if his life turned out a little bit different. ^^ There, he had Dean to discourage his bad sides, here he has Sam that encourages him. This is a WIP, and I'd told myself I wouldn't post it until it was done. But, *handwaves haphazardly* life and all that. So while I'm working on other stories I'm gonna go ahead and post chapters of this because I need to post stuff or I'll wilt. :(  So if you can stomach dark stuff with humor, you'll have somewhat regular posting for a couple of weeks.</p>
<p>
  <b>NO TRIGGERS THIS CHAPTER</b>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>The boy always hunched his shoulders and hung his head when he passed Nick's house and continued into the house to the left of Nick’s. For some reason, it peeved Nick. He'd seen the boy around town. When he was out with friends he was all smiles, proud, and standing tall. But at home he'd duck his head and make himself smaller, letterman jacket be damned. </p>
<p><i>Too much religion can't be good for a child,</i> Nick muses. His neighbor, Pastor Bonahue, adopted the boy ten years ago when the boy was four or six or something. Nick could never tell with kids. He wasn’t in good standing with the Pastor. If asked, Nick would claim to be an atheist. He’s not. But he’s not a praying man. And he'll be damned if he is going to let Bonahue dictate his personal relationship with God. Nick stands by the window, pruning his flowers. When the kid disappears inside, Nick stops thinking about him. Out of sight, out of mind. </p>
<p>One day the kid walks into his shop. Nick's in the greenhouse part, watering flowers. He hears the bell announce a customer, shuts off the water, and goes to check, annoyed at being interrupted. He owns a retail nursery named Luci’s Eden, and has a couple of employees. Although, people, his employees included, don’t know he's the owner. As far as they know, he’s like any other part-time employee, the only difference is he's the only one to work alone most shifts.</p>
<p>The neighbor boy stands, looking lost, just inside the door. </p>
<p>“Can I help you?” Nick asks. </p>
<p>“Um… yeah? I need dirt.”</p>
<p>“Dirt.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Any particular kind of dirt?”</p>
<p>“I dunno.”</p>
<p>“So why don't you dig some up out of the sorry excuse that goes for a lawn on your side of the fence. A couple of holes in it won’t make it look any worse.”</p>
<p>The boy gives him the most spectacular bitch face. Nick crosses an arm in front of his chest, rests an elbow on it, and pulls on his lip thoughtfully, with clear amusement in his eyes. Nick loves animals, and yet, blowing in the face of a cat or dog to peeve them, is irresistible. The feeling he has now is kind of the same. </p>
<p>The boy looks down with an annoyed, troubled frown, thinking. “Will it suffice?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, kid, you haven’t told me what you want it for. Leave a trail all over the house? Grow your own weed? Make mud cakes?”</p>
<p>The boy gives him a frustrated glare. “Look. It’s for school, alright?”</p>
<p>“Fair enough. Tell me what you have in mind, and I'll tell you to save your money for movies and milkshakes to get the girls to blow you.”</p>
<p>“Dude. Your customer service sucks.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I don’t want you as a customer. I bet Bonahue gives you shit for allowance, and you want to spend it on soil when you can find it in nature. Makes no sense.”</p>
<p>“Since it's for school, the Pastor's paying for it. It doesn’t come from my allowance.”</p>
<p>“<i>Oooohh</i>. Daddy's paying for it. Why didn’t you say so,” Nick says leeringly. </p>
<p>“He's not my dad,” the boy deadpans testily. </p>
<p>
  <i>Interesting. </i>
</p>
<p>“I'll sell you all the dirt you want, kid. What’s this project about?” Nick says and puts his hand on the boy's shoulder, guiding him towards the soil section. The boy is almost as tall as him. Nick knows he’s on the basketball team in school. He’s driven by the outdoor court enough times and seen the boy. Slim, but too fit to be gangly. He'd shot up in height three years ago. Raced from cute, borderline chubby kid, to tall and slim teen, with almost no awkward phase at all. </p>
<p>“Um. I'm supposed to plant stuff and make it grow, as a science project.”</p>
<p>“Then you don’t need to buy shit. Take a seed, stick it in the ground, pour some water on it, then watch it grow. It’s not rocket science.”</p>
<p>The boy sniggers. “That’s kinda the point. I got to choose between making a rocket, and grow plants while documenting the progress. I figured, if our sad, Godless drunk of a neighbor could make his garden flourish, it's <i>gotta</i> be easy.”</p>
<p>“Ouch. That’s cute. Really cute, kid. You’re the Pastor's son, alright.”</p>
<p>“He's not my dad. I'm not like him.”</p>
<p>“You sure sound like him.”</p>
<p>“Where’s the lie, though?” the boy sasses snootily like the brat he is. </p>
<p>Nick hums. He can’t decide if he likes the boy for not backing up, or if he loathes him for looking down on Nick. </p>
<p>He stops and gestures at the section with row upon row with different types of soil and fertilizers. “Knock yourself out, sweet cheeks.”</p>
<p>“Oh shit.” The boy looks overwhelmed.</p>
<p>“Tell me what you want, and I'll pick out what you need for you.” </p>
<p>“No need.” The boy grabs the nearest bag, turns on his heel, and walks towards the register. He grabs a pretty clay pot and a bag of seeds on his way. Nick follows, sniggering in amusement at the combination of wares. Orchid potting mix, that isn't soil, but chips of bark, a bag of sweet peas, and a decorative pot with no hole underneath, meant to hold a smaller inner pot.</p>
<p>Nick slips in behind the counter and rings the wares up. “That'll be 30 dollars.”</p>
<p>“<i>Thirty bucks?</i> How? I counted 3 + 7 + 5.”</p>
<p>“True. And if you'd be paying for this with your allowance, I might have gone half price. But since the good ol’ Pastor's card you're tapping against the counter, it's the double price, young Mr. Bonahue.”</p>
<p>“It’s Winchester. I'm Sam Winchester, not Bonahue. And this is bullshit. Your boss is gonna be pissed if he finds out what you’re doing.”</p>
<p>“Believe me, Sammy, my boss is fed up with me most of the time. You want the stuff or not?”</p>
<p>Sam bitchfaces him again. His eyes have a delightful catty quality to them that Nick's never noticed before. “Yes.”</p>
<p>Nick refrains from outright laughing at him. He must really hate the Pastor if he so readily bends over and lets himself get fucked over, knowing his adoptive father will pay the price. Sam pays him sullenly, and when Nick wishes Sam good luck on his failure, Sam gives him the finger. </p>
<p><i>Whelp. Won’t be seeing him here again,</i> Nick thinks and sniggers to himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Seedling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Unlike Lucifer expected, Sam comes back to his shop...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>NO WARNINGS/TRIGGERS IN THIS CHAPTER</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Fun fact:</b> This whole fic is inspired by one single song: <a href="https://youtu.be/RYahpWg-YU0">Burn Me by Apollo Drive</a>. It's especially one line of lyrics that got me hooked, "Let me in on all your shadows, Let me in on all your lies" and that colors the whole fic. Back when I wrote most of the fic, the lyrics weren't available online, so I found the band's Facebook page and wrote them. Shockingly, they wrote me back and sent me the lyrics, allowing me to put them up on a lyrics site. Today when I googled the song I got way more hits and found the lyrics in many places. :) The song can be found on Spotify, and for once I have no playlist for the fic since the whole fic is inspired by this one song. If you're one of those readers who likes to immerse yourself in fics every way you can, I recommend giving the song a listen.</p>
<p>Note: So. Measurements. I've finished re-reading all my done chapters. Apparently, I'm an idiot who can't be bothered to be consistent. Therefore I've used meters, centimeters, <i>and</i> inches in this story. Now, I could of course change that. And maybe one day, I will. Today, however, is not the day.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h2>Seedling</h2>
</div><hr/>
<p>A week later the bell chimes while Nick's stacking new pots. This time Nick doesn’t stop what he’s doing since he's in the shop part of the nursery. Customers want help, they can come to find him. </p>
<p>He hears some shuffling behind him, then, “Why aren't they growing?”</p>
<p>
  <i>I'll be damned. </i>
</p>
<p>Nick doesn’t turn around, despite the thrilling feeling of hearing Sam’s voice behind him. There’s just something about kicking a dog then watch it come back to you. Figuratively. He'd never kick an <i>actual</i> dog. Even he has limits, believe it or not. “Let me guess. First off, you followed the instructions on the seed bag, where it said to let the peas soak for 24 hours before planting. But <i>you</i> thought, if 24 hours is good, 48 hours will be even better, essentially drowning the plants before they even had a chance. Sounds familiar?” Nick hedges, stacking another row of pots.</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t answer, but the shuffling and silence are answer enough. </p>
<p>Nick smirks to himself. “Hmm. Alright, let's pretend you didn't. You planted the peas in Orchid potting mix―“</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with that? Orchids are flowers too.”</p>
<p>Nick can’t discern if the sullen tone is defensive or vexed about failing. “Ah, yes. And pretty ones at that. But did you ever stop to consider how they grow in the wild?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“They grow on trees in the tropics, roots hanging off the branches, taking what they need from the air. In fact, a surefire way to kill an orchid is to plant it in soil. It drowns them.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yep. You planted an ordinary flower in chips of bark, then you watered. The bark doesn't suck up the moist. And the pot didn’t have a drain hole. So. If you didn't drown the peas before, you did so now, or they didn't get any water at all.”</p>
<p>“I guess pouring a cup of nutrient over it, didn’t help, huh?”</p>
<p>“A <i>cup</i>?” Nick doesn’t hold back laughter this time. “No, dimples, it didn't,” he agrees. He puts down a pot and turns around. Sam is narrowing those catty eyes at him resentfully. </p>
<p>“Wow. You’ve shaved today. And I see you've taken your monthly shower. Must feel strange to be clean for a change,” Sam says spitefully. </p>
<p>It’s true that Nick only shaves every other day, and generally has a scruffy look to him. But he showers every day. He gets dirty and sweaty from working in the nursery, and last time Sam had come in at the end of his shift, not the beginning, like now. It’s still a nasty angle to attack from, just because Sam’s precious pride is ruffled. Nick saunters up to Sam, gets all up in his space, and squares off with him with a lazy smirk. “Disappointed, Sammy? <i>Miss my musk</i>?” he purrs. </p>
<p>“You'd like <i>that</i>, wouldn't you?”</p>
<p>“Keep telling yourself that.”</p>
<p>“What’s the matter? I thought you swung that way?”</p>
<p>“What? Towards incarceration? Hardly. Come back in four years and ask me again, jailbait.”</p>
<p>“I'm fifteen.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <i>excuuuse</i> me. Three years then.” They’re nearly nose to nose. Sam’s drawn himself up to his full height. He’s just a couple of centimeters shy of Nick's height. His narrowed hazel green gaze won't budge an inch. The tension is delicious to Nick. A few more moments of this, and fists are going to fly. But Sam, for all his bluster, is just a kid. “Now, did you want something? Or did you just come here to flirt?” Nick asks and turns his back, heading back to the pots.</p>
<p>“I need help.”</p>
<p>“That’s obvious.”</p>
<p>“Dude, can you stop being a dick?”</p>
<p>Nick sniggers. “‘Fraid it's an inherent part of my personality, sweet cheeks. If you want brown-nosing, come back after 3 o’clock. Or another day, when I'm not working.”</p>
<p>“I'm here now.”</p>
<p>Nick turns around with an amused smirk. Sam doesn’t want service. He wants Nick. Nick bets he's stopped by earlier, to discover Nick wasn’t here, then turned around to come back some other time when Nick’s here. </p>
<p>
  <i>Yes, delude your ego, Nick. Good job. </i>
</p>
<p>“Fair enough. You paying yourself this time, or are you still holding the golden card of the good Pastor?”</p>
<p>“Does it matter?”</p>
<p>“Do you even remember the last time you were here?”</p>
<p>“That still stands?”</p>
<p>“I'm fairly certain I made myself clear when it came to how I feel about your so-called dad, Mr. Winchester.”</p>
<p>Something about being called by the last name he provided, stirs Sam. He tries to hide it, but the excitement or agitation is still there underneath. </p>
<p>
  <i>Duly noted, Sammy. </i>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you also said you'd give me a discount.”</p>
<p>“Mh. I did that. I still might. Or not. But don't worry. The Pastor's money is so dirty it requires a hefty fee to handle. Yours do not. So who's paying?”</p>
<p>Sam juts his chin defiantly. “Bonahue.”</p>
<p>Nick grins at him. “Very well, good sir, come this way, we've got some shopping to do,” he says, winks, and gestures towards the aisle with small plastic nursing pots. </p>
<p>He helps Sam pick out everything needed this time, briefly explaining how to get the best results. “Or you could just buy a couple of young plants and claim you grew them.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I wouldn’t <i>learn</i> anything if I do that.”</p>
<p>“Like you’d care. As long as you get your A.”</p>
<p>“Hey! Maybe I do care, alright? We're supposed to document everything we do, step by step. So that’s what I'm going to do. For science.”</p>
<p>“Oooohh. For <i>science</i>. Well then.”</p>
<p>“Shut up. It’s not like that.”</p>
<p>“Like what?” Nick asks teasingly. </p>
<p>“I'm not gonna grow weed. Or like, cucumber.”</p>
<p>Nick sniggers silently, grinning at him, thoroughly entertained by how Sam’s blushing. “Cucumbers, aye? Now that's the kind of science I'd like to see you get into.”</p>
<p>“That’s because you're a creep,” Sam deadpans, blushing even harder. </p>
<p>Nick puts a hand over his chest with a mock insulted scoff. “What are you implying? I was merely talking of homegrown ingredients for gourmet cuisine. Please, <i>do</i> tell me, in explicit details, what kind of experiments <i>your</i> dirty mind thought to do with cucumbers,” he says with eyes full of merry mischief. </p>
<p>Sam frowns angrily, draws breath as if to respond―  </p>
<p>―but whatever he was about to respond lodges in his throat. There’s a hint of panic in his eyes. He closes his mouth and swallows audibly, gaze going all over Nick's face, unconsciously wetting his bubblegum pink lips when he looks at Nick's mouth. If possible, he’s blushing even harder. </p>
<p>Fuck, but that isn't good. Whatever place Sam’s mind is going, it's dragging Nick's libido right with it, turning trash talk, teasing, and aggressive tension, into another kind of tension entirely. It’s downright disgusting and it's got to stop. “You know what? I'll throw in a packet of cucumber seeds free of charge. For science,” Nick says and grabs the wares they've picked then promptly heads for the counter, afraid that Sam would have seen the temporary lapse in judgment. “Tell me, Sammy, will you be including the results of your first attempt too?” he asks, listening to Sam’s footfalls behind him.</p>
<p>Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah,” he answers with a testy tone. Nick chuckles and gets behind the register, starting to ring the wares up. “Yeah, you can laugh. But I don’t cheat,” Sam says annoyedly and takes up the credit card, tapping it against the counter. </p>
<p>Nick grins playfully at him, reaches out to pluck Bonahue’s card from his fingers and holds it up, the name facing Sam, and arches his eyebrows meaningfully. “Don’t you, now?”</p>
<p>Sam’s lips twist sourly. “In school. I don’t cheat in school.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh,” Nick says, putting the card in the reader and billing it for 75 bucks. </p>
<p>“Education is important. Or I may end up like you.”</p>
<p>“What? Working only three or four days a week, earning good money to do what you love best? Yes, I could see how that would be a nightmare. A minimum wage job at Mcdonald’s will be much more to your liking.”</p>
<p>“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you actually like it here. Your boss only lets you work the dead hours so you won't scare away customers. You hate your job.”</p>
<p>Nick hums. “I don’t like being disturbed while tending the flowers, I'll give you that. Not all customers are as entertaining as you, dimples. And my boss frequently questions what the hell I'm doing here, and wonders why I never go home or call my brothers. And yet, here I am. Kindly asking the world to fuck off.”</p>
<p>“I dunno about that ‘kindly’ part,” Sam quips with a smirk, narrowing those golden hazel eyes at him as if he’s superior somehow. </p>
<p>Nick puts the wares in a bag, hands back the card and receipt. He leans forward, putting his elbows on the counter with a mischievous smile. “Trust me, Winchester, this is me being nice. Piss me off, and you'll be begging for this gentle treatment.” His smile widens. “But then again,” he adds, “you already are.” He winks. </p>
<p>Sam gives him one of his delightful bitchfaces and grabs his bag. “You’re an asshole,” he says before turning to stomp towards the exit. </p>
<p>“What? No goodbye kiss?” Nick calls out after him and holds out his hands to his sides, feigning surprise. </p>
<p>Sam raises his hand to give him the finger without turning around, then he’s out the door.<br/>
Nick chuckles and shakes his head. </p>
<p>
  <i>That was fun. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Except for the five seconds my mind went adult rating, that is. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Not my fault, he took it there. What was he thinking? Looking at my mouth, licking his lips at the same time. Pfft. Fucking brat.</i>
</p>
<p>In truth, Sam’s sudden switch of gears, temporary as it might have been, unsettled Nick more than his own libido flaring in response. Nick had always ‘prided’ himself in that he'd fuck anything with a pulse. If going to jail for statutory rape wasn’t an issue, he wouldn’t hesitate to go with the flow with a teenager like Sam. And if Sam wasn't a neighbor kid he'd seen grow up, he wouldn’t dwell on what might cause Sam’s behavior. But he’s the Pastor's son, and something about it all sets his teeth on edge. </p>
<p>He decides to put it out of his mind, focuses on the good mood the tall teen put him in and goes back to restocking pots.</p><hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! :D Please leave a comment. You'll make my day. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Baited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam finds out something that makes his interest in Sam tenfold.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>No warnings for this chapter</b><br/>Or... maybe sexism?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Baited</h3>
</div><hr/>
<p>Annie and Andrew come in fifteen minutes late for their shift. Humpty and Dumpty as he likes to think of them. Only Andrew owns a car, which Annie seems to think is a valid excuse for being late. Nevermind busses, bikes, cabs, or feet. Every time they’re not on time, he thinks about firing them. Then he thinks about having to rehire and train new staff without revealing that he’s the boss. It equals too much effort, especially considering how good they are at handling customers. They take the rush hours, actually selling stuff, and he can focus on caring for the plants. Today he’s in a too good mood to be anything but mildly annoyed. </p>
<p>The tradeoff is usually limited to a curt nod or chewing them out for being late, but today he interrupts their menial chatter for information. </p>
<p>“Humpty Dumpty, has Sam been in here the last week?”</p>
<p>“Who?” Annie asks, looking annoyed at being interrupted. </p>
<p>“Tall, young guy, brown tomboy hair.” Nick holds his hand at 6 feet to demonstrate Sam’s height. “Letterman jacket.”</p>
<p>“You say tomboy about <i>girls</i>,” Annie corrects him with a condescending tone.</p>
<p><i>Cunt.</i> </p>
<p>“My point exactly,” Nick answers. </p>
<p>Andrew’s lips twitch in amusement behind Anne's back, but he's quick to hide it. It’s not like Nick doesn’t know Andrew screws Annie in the storage room. Or Camilla, when he works with her. Or Cynthia on her shifts. Nick's the one they call an asshole, but Andrew is the one with zero respect for women. At least Nick's honest about only being after their pussy, and doesn't brag about it afterward. But he can admire the skills it takes to keep a minimum of five girlfriends happy and oblivious. </p>
<p>“No. I don’t think I've seen him,” Annie says dismissively. </p>
<p>“He came in here Wednesday afternoon, wandering around aimlessly, declining help, then left. Came back Friday. Spoke with Annie, asking for you. She gave him your schedule,” Andrew tells him. Annie gives him a betrayed look. “What? He asked for Nick. It could be important. Nobody ever asks for Nick,” he excuses himself to Annie with a shrug. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Nick says and takes his leave, not wanting to stay and watch Andrew spin his magic this time, taming the shrew. Andrew is a firm believer of girls vs. boys, and as such, would be ten times more loyal to anyone with a dick, on principle alone. But Sam is the interesting party here. </p>
<p>
  <i>I’ll be damned. He searched me out. </i>
</p>
<p>He lets his ego stew in that knowledge for a while. </p>
<p>And a little longer. </p>
<p>Then he asks himself why.</p>
<hr/>
<p>He’s not sure if it's a fluke or if he’s just more observant, but now he sees Sam everywhere. Biking to basketball practice through the park, macking on some cheerleader outside the burger joint, mowing the lawn, on his way to school, outside the library. </p>
<p>Sam doesn’t acknowledge seeing him too, and maybe he doesn’t, but Nick has his doubts.</p>
<p>One day when Nick's outside, tending to his rose bushes by the fence, Sam comes home from school. Nick may or may not have chosen to do this at this time just for the purpose. He’s crouching down, cutting off flowers that have reached the end of their bloom to encourage new buds to shoot, when he spots Sam walking down the street. </p>
<p>It peeves him even more than usual to see that proud posture hunch more and more the closer to home he gets. Sam goes from looking like a bratty jock to a submissive, whipped loser in less than 500 meters. He casts his gaze to the ground and won't look up. It pisses Nick off. He wants the boy to be as he was when he came to the store. </p>
<p>Nick follows him with his gaze until he's reached the opposite end of Nick's yard. Then he focuses on the flowers in front of him. “How’s your project coming along?” he asks offhandedly. </p>
<p>Sam doesn’t answer. </p>
<p>“<i>Oooohh</i>, it’s like that, is it?” Nick sneers. “Figured.” </p>
<p>Sam slows his steps when he passes the spot where Nick's crouched. “Like what?” Sam asks without turning his head. </p>
<p>“Too afraid daddy's going to see you talk to the lowlife neighbor,” Nick says dismissively and pretends to lose interest. </p>
<p>Sam suddenly goes down on a knee to tie a shoelace (that Nick sees him tug open first) once he’s passed Nick. “He's <i>not</i> my―“ Sam cuts himself off and throws him a heated glare through the hedge. “Did you ever consider that I might just not want to talk to you?”</p>
<p>“Hmm. I have a good imagination, so I considered it. It’s not the case, though.”</p>
<p>“You're so full of yourself,” Sam says testily and moves to get up. </p>
<p>“The snake in a frock isn’t at home yet. He'll be at least two hours late.”</p>
<p>Sam stills. “How do you know?”</p>
<p>“The Henderson funeral got delayed.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Apparently, both the hearse and the widow's car got three flat tires each.” Nick tuts. “Such an odd coincidence, wouldn't you say?”</p>
<p>Sam looks at him, green-grey eyes sharp and interested through the branches. “Poor widow.”</p>
<p>“Mh. Old Marge is devastated, I'm sure. Luckily James Marsden is doing a good job of comforting her. Has done, for the last two years or so.” Nick keeps his voice uninterested. In reality, he took great interest in the clandestine affair between the window and her now late husband's doctor, especially considering the size of the inheritance.  Nick bet the two would be married within the year. What he’s curious about is how long it would take before the widow too would die from a sudden heart condition. Not that any of this affects him personally, he just smelt blood in the water. </p>
<p>“How do you know?” Sam asks. </p>
<p>Nick sniggers and shakes his head, discarding several over-bloomed roses in the basket beside him. He may not appear to be social to an outsider, but he still has eyes when he's of a mind to use them. “Are your plants growing yet?”</p>
<p>“Most of them.”</p>
<p>“All but three, by my guess. Such a shame you don’t know anyone whom you can show them to that could tell you what you’re doing wrong.” Nick fakes concern, tapping his chin as if he’s thinking. Then he shrugs, chipper as can be, and stands up. “Oh well. Not my problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go inside, through my unlocked back door. Toodeloo, Winchester.”</p>
<p>He turns around and walks away.</p>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for commenting! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam takes the bait and comes over. There he reveals a few very interesting things to Nick.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this chapter:<br/>-underage drinking</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Trouble</h3>
</div>When he gets inside he washes his hands and face. He briefly considers applying a dash of cologne since it's almost worn off, only faintly lingering mixed with the scent of his sweat. He’s instantly ticked off at himself for letting a mean comment from a teen get to him. Instead, he leaves his gardening T-shirt on, not exchanging it for a clean one like he usually would. If Sam thinks he's disgusting, that's fucking good. Most likely, he was just parroting the Pastor anyway.<p>He goes to the kitchen, takes a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard, puts it on the table, changes his mind, and exchanges it for a Jim Beam Honey bottle instead. The boy is fifteen. Isn’t there a saying about kids swallowing bitter medicine more readily with honey? </p>
<p>He takes forth two glasses, pours himself a hefty amount, and downs half of it straight away. He adjusts the other glass to stand by one seat on the table, sits down on the seat opposite it, uses his feet to tug the chair beside Sam’s assigned seat closer to put his feet on, drapes an arm over the backrest of the chair next to him, trying to look nonchalant and relaxed.</p>
<p>
  <i>Stop fussing. It’s just a boy.</i>
</p>
<p>In fact, he’s slightly nervous. That has more to do with letting someone into his home than who he’s letting in.</p>
<p>
  <i>Or, he might not show.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>If he doesn’t, I’m reading him all wrong and won’t need to waste any more of my time on him.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Nope. He’s going to show.</i>
</p>
<p>It wasn’t just about having a visitor. He'd occasionally bring home a man or a woman from a bar, then get them to leave once they're done fucking. But he hadn’t had a ‘real’ visitor for years. <i>That’s</i> why he’s fussing. Sam’s going to be a nosy little shit. He takes his phone from his pocket, switches on voice recording, and puts the phone back.</p>
<p>He drains the rest of the content in his glass and pours himself a new one. Just as he’s starting to doubt if Sam’s going to show again, he hears the loud squeak from the back door. He smirks knowingly to himself and follows the sound of Sam slowly sneaking his way through the house by listening to creaky floorboards. Sam goes to the living room first. It’s quiet for a while, then he starts moving towards the kitchen. Nick makes sure he looks relaxed and uncaring, sipping his drink with one hand, keeping the other hand draped over the back of the other chair.</p>
<p>Sam looks into the kitchen, carrying the nursery tray under one arm. His gaze sweeps the room, going from Nick to the empty glass on the table. “You expecting someone else?”</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>Sam comes into the kitchen and stops, still looking at the glass and the bottle on the table. “Are you offering me booze?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Why, Sam, I’m doing no such thing! That would be illegal,” Nick says, pretending to take offense. “Technically, I didn’t even invite you in, yet here you are.” Nick shrugs offhandedly and takes a sip of his drink with an amused smirk. “I’m not offering you anything. I imagine it would piss the good Pastor off something fierce if his ward indulged in alcohol. So I won’t be held accountable for your harum-scarum actions.” He winks. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have a tail, or it would be wagging in excitement, showing Sam exactly how he feels about the visit.</p>
<p>Sam studies him for a moment, makes up his mind, snorts in amusement, saunters up to the table, and puts the nursery tray on the table in front of Nick. Then he reaches for the bottle, pours a drink into the empty glass, and drains it in one go. He shivers and coughs, making Nick laugh at him.</p>
<p>“Amateur,” Nick taunts.</p>
<p>Sam narrows his catty eyes at him in a silent fuck you and promptly pours himself another drink. He goes around the table and sits down beside Nick, on the chair Nick has his arm draped over the backrest of, rather than being a good boy and sitting in his assigned seat. Nick knows it’s been evident that the chair was for Sam. No, this is a move he hasn’t anticipated.</p>
<p>Nick doesn’t remove his arm.</p>
<p>“Why have you got a picture of Michael Williams in your living room?” Sam asks and removes the plastic cover from the nursery tray. He looks at Nick with a mean smirk. “Is he, like, your idol or something?”</p>
<p>So close, yet wide off the target. Nick’s curious about why Sam chose the picture of Michael to latch onto. There are several other pictures of famous people on his wall, all black and white candids the same size. Usually, people got interested in the photos of the actors or singers, possibly the world leaders. But Michael Williams is a famous businessman. So why him? Why pick the only picture that held any personal meaning to Nick? Either Sam’s one hell of a researcher, or Nick has to look over the chosen photos to see if Michael’s pictures stand out somehow, breaking a pattern or theme. “Suure,” Nick answers sarcastically. “Let’s go with that.”</p>
<p>“You wanna be like him? I bet it’s envy.”</p>
<p>Sam should wear a shirt saying ‘Fight Me!’ or ‘Come at me, Bro!’. One of these days, he’s going to step on the toes of the wrong person, and the results won’t be pretty. Maybe the wrong person will be Nick. Nick’s lips curve into a condescending smile. “Sounds about right.” Right now, Nick’s more amused than angry at Sam for trying to provoke him. Sam’s not stepping on his toes, only stomping around in the general area of his feet. </p>
<p>Sam stares at him for a beat, waiting for ire. He sips his drink, shivering again as the potent liquid goes down. Nick sniggers. The boy is not an experienced drinker. It makes Nick want to see him shitfaced. Sam looks glum and turns his gaze towards the kitchen, looking around. He leans back and lifts his legs to rest on the same chair as Nick’s, warmth bleeding through Sam’s shirt where it’s rested against the arm draped behind him. There’s something vastly wrong with Sam. This isn’t normal behavior. Maybe he’s trying to intimidate Nick by invading his space. If he thinks that’ll work, he’s wrong. Nick holds back the impulse to lift his hand and play with Sam’s longish hair, just to see how he’d react.</p>
<p>
  <i>Fifteen. He’s fifteen. No matter what my intentions are, a judge would send me straight to jail. ‘Provoking me’ isn’t a valid excuse.</i>
</p>
<p>“You really do love your job, huh?” Sam says, cataloging every flower and plant in the room and dropping the hostility.</p>
<p>“I told you, Winchester.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I thought you were full of shit. I’ve never seen a house with so many plants in it.” When Sam looks back at him, there’s an open curiosity on his face.</p>
<p>
  <i>You got some split personality disorder going on, Sammy?</i>
</p>
<p>“A man needs more than just booze and whoring around in his life.”</p>
<p>“But you really like flowers, not just as a job,” Sam states, raising his eyebrows and making it a question.</p>
<p>“Mhm.”</p>
<p>Sam grabs the nursery tray and drags it closer to them. “How’d you know three of them wouldn’t grow?”</p>
<p>He didn’t. He made a guess. But there it is - three spaces where nothing’s growing amidst tiny shoots and small plants. “You followed the instructions on the seed bags, and three of the seeds you bought require specific conditions to grow, unlike the rest.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I <i>followed</i> the instructions,” Sam says, frustrated. He’d picked the seeds based on how pretty the flowers were, no regard for the instructions on the back while choosing. Nick hadn’t bothered warning him. After all, it wasn’t rocket science.</p>
<p>Nick puts his glass on the table and reaches out to grab the back of Sam’s hand, refraining from sniggering at Sam’s startled expression. He guides their hands towards one of the small planters and presses their fingers down in the soil. “How does that feel?”</p>
<p>Sam’s looking at him rather than their hands, putting their faces much too close, and their sides touching since Nick refuses to remove the arm from the back of Sam’s chair. “Warm,” Sam answers.</p>
<p>“Not my hand, jackass,” Nick snaps with a slight, annoyed frown. This is not the time to focus on their proximity. If Sam’s going to do that, he might as well throw him out.</p>
<p>“Okay…” Sam licks his lips. “<i>Wet</i>,” the little shit answers this time. Nick genuinely feels like slapping him. The challenging gaze, the tone of his voice―the fuck is a fifteen-year-old doing playing this game with him? It’s just disgusting.</p>
<p>Nick hums. “Exactly. The instructions call for watering plentifully, keeping the soil wet at all times. Instead of keeping the soil wet, you’ve kept the water muddy. The seeds would have grown if you’d treated them like the rest. You’re overdoing it.” He lets go of Sam’s hand and dries his dirty, wet fingers off on Sam’s jeans, on the thigh, before grabbing his drink again. He does this as if it was the most natural thing in the world, hiding how fucked up he thinks this is. Sam’s response to getting his thigh touched was to shift his legs apart to make the risk of Nick’s hand going where it shouldn’t increase. Sam has no idea what he’s messing with.</p>
<p>“You do the same, but an opposite mistake, with the plant in the corner,” Nick goes on and takes a sip of his drink. “That one too would have grown if you’d treated it like the rest of them. Keep dry doesn’t mean they don’t need any water at all. Did you dry out the soil before you planted the seeds?”</p>
<p>Sam lowers his head with a sulky glower.</p>
<p>“You did. Mh. Always going for the extremes.” Nick tuts.</p>
<p>“So why did I fail with the third?”</p>
<p>“Ah. Yes. That one’s a given. Those are difficult plants. You need to plant those separately, keeping them under a humidity dome. During the daytime, they need a lot of strong light and a temperature above 80 ℉, then you need to make the temperature drop to around 50 ℉ at night. Water sparingly but never let the soil dry out.”</p>
<p>“Look. You can’t do stuff like that at home.”</p>
<p>“Wrong. <i>You</i> can’t. I have no problem accommodating my plants.” Nick gives in to the increasingly urgent impulse to touch Sam’s hair. He bends his elbow behind Sam and without stealth, buries his fingers in the thick mop of glossy brown hair. It’s soft and silky. Sam closes his eyes and leans into the touch. Nick makes a fist, squeezing, pulling Sam’s head back. It must hurt, yet Sam lets out a soft sound, parts his lips, and relaxes. </p>
<p>It propels Nick’s brain into full X-rated mode again. </p>
<p>
  <i>Jailbait. </i>
</p>
<p>Sam’s reactions make no sense whatsoever. None. They don’t know each other. There’s no actual flirting going on, only taunting. Provoking each other does not account for flirting unless it’s executed with the right body language. Nick has avoided that body language due to Sam’s age. So this is just strange. Sam should question him, or at least fight, not relax and open up.</p>
<p>Nick releases his grip and combs through Sam’s hair with his fingers, untangling the mess he made. “Why don’t you just google it? It helps to know how the plants grow in the wild.”</p>
<p>Sam opens his eyes partially. He looks relaxed and content at being petted by an adult man he barely knows. It’s sickening. It’s wrong in the wrong way. Nick’s going to end up being the monster in Sam’s story if he’s not careful. The thought excites him. “Bonahue only allows me internet access for one hour a day. I’m not wasting it on flowers.”</p>
<p>“Don’t want to miss out on your porn, huh?” </p>
<p>Sam chuckles and reaches for his drink. “I wish. Get this. He monitors everything I look at. A visit to PornHub would get me into deep shit.”</p>
<p>“What a tragedy. A shame you can’t access the wifi of any of your neighbors, isn’t it?” Nick says with a smirk and lets his hand fall away from Sam’s hair. The boy is trouble. Better figure out if it’s trouble he can get away with or not before he makes a move.</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes widen with interest. “Yeah. I can see two networks near me. Aa4786 and Aconite. Tried to hack them both, but it’s friggin impossible.”</p>
<p>“It’s generally supposed to be. So what do you use the internet for during your daily hour?” Nick asks. He traces his wifi password slowly on the table with a finger once. It doesn’t leave marks, but Sam’s following the movement. If he’s a bright kid, he’ll figure it out and remember it. Aconite is his network. Aconite, a flower also known as wolf’s bane or devil’s helmet, means ‘Misanthropy’ in flower language. Misanthropy is the password. Not hard to figure out at all, if you know Nick. And if Sam hooks himself up to his network, <i>he’ll</i> be able to monitor Sam’s internet activity. </p>
<p>Sam downs his drink and manages not to shudder this time. “I search for my brother. His name is Dean. He’s four years older than me. He promised to come to get me as soon as he could.”</p>
<p>“And he never came. Mh. Although he was just nine when he made that promise, wasn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you don’t know Dean. He’ll never forget. He’ll come for me. I don’t think he can find me. That’s why I’m searching for him.”</p>
<p>“And good ol’ Pastor Snake tongue lets you?”</p>
<p>Sam averts his gaze. “Yes.”</p>
<p>
  <i>That’s interesting. Why? Sam’s practically planning his escape.</i>
</p>
<p>“Where are you from originally, Winchester?”</p>
<p>“Lawrence, Kansas.”</p>
<p>“And where are your parents?”</p>
<p>“Mom’s dead, and dad’s in jail for murder.”</p>
<p>“Do you know where Dean ended up after your dad went to jail? Have you had any contact with either of them?”</p>
<p>“No.” Sam looks back at him, eyes curious again after avoiding looking at him when he asked about the pastor.</p>
<p>“What’s your parents’ names?”</p>
<p>“John and Mary Winchester.”</p>
<p>“Do you know your mother’s maiden name?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“What state is your father incarcerated in?”</p>
<p>“Dunno. I’m not allowed to search for him.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough, dimples.” Nick points at the dry pot with no plant. “Water that one like the others, and it will begin to grow. The one needing a lot of water you need to replant, as you’ve drowned the seeds by now. Water it as the others, but make sure it never dries out. The third one I think you should simply exchange for cucumbers. Your daddy will be home soon. Better get going, or you’ll get in trouble for being here.”</p>
<p>Sam pouts. “Alright. Can I use the bathroom first?”</p>
<p>Nick snorts. Nosy little shit indeed. It’s not like he has far to go to get home. “Knock yourself out, kid.”</p>
<p>Sam gets to his feet, grabs the bottle, pours himself another drink, downs it, and leaves the room. Nick listens to him walk through the house. It has the same floor planning as every house on this street, despite that, he hears the floorboards in the living room creak before he hears the bathroom door, telling him that Sam indeed took a detour. He wonders if the boy steals anything. It’ll be fun finding out. There’s a quiet, which to Nick means Sam goes through his bathroom cabinet, then the toilet flushes, and after that, he hears the tap running, but the sound is too consistent, meaning Sam only runs the tap but doesn’t wash his hands. Amateur move. He’s young. He’ll learn.</p>
<p>Sam comes back, grabs his nursery tray, and stops to look at Nick. “What’s your real last name?”</p>
<p>“Perditus.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit.”</p>
<p>It is bullshit. Perditus means outcast, or abandoned, in Latin. It’s a taken name. “Fuck off.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah.” Sam’s lips twist sourly. His cheeks are rosy from the alcohol. He’s fucking pretty; that’s what he is. He’d be prettier with a black eye. And if those thoughts are coming, it’s definitely time for Sam to go. </p>
<p>Sam turns around and leaves, not entirely stable on his feet. Nick listens to his receding footsteps, the loud noise the back door makes when you open it too carefully, then the slam when Sam shuts it hard after himself. Nick gets up and walks to the living room. He looks around, but nothing’s out of place. He goes through the cabinets and drawers, but everything’s still where he left it. He goes to lock the backdoor then heads for the bathroom. Unlike Sam, he avoids every creaky floorboard, moving stealthily through the house. Just like he’d thought, Sam has snooped through his bathroom cabinet. The jar of OxyContins is facing the wrong way, and the sleeping pills are pushed in half a centimeter too far back. He takes the jar of painkillers and pours them all into his hand. A quick count reveals three of them missing. He pours them back and places them like they should be standing, then takes the box of sleeping pills and opens it. He sniggers at Sam’s bravery. A whole blister strip is missing. Sam might think it’s less obvious that there are eight blister strips left instead of nine, and in many cases, he’d be right. But he doesn’t know Nick. Nobody here does. Nick shakes his head, puts the box back where it should be, and closes the cabinet. He’s about to leave the bathroom when his gaze falls on the dirty laundry basket. “I’ll be damned.”</p>
<p>Just to be sure, he rifles through the dirty laundry. But no. Yesterday’s dirty work T-shirt is gone. Now that’s a weird thing to steal unless Sam’s trying to set him up somehow.</p>
<p>He scrubs a hand through his hair, annoyed.</p>
<p>
  <i>That kid’s nothing but trouble.</i>
</p>
<p>He leaves the bathroom, goes to the stairs, grabs the banisters, lifts himself over the child gate, and then shimmies up the stairs, avoiding every creaky step. At the top, he pulls the gate towards him before pulling back the spring lock and pushing the gate open. He holds the spring lock pulled back and settles the gate back in place before he lets go. He turns to the room to the left, digs up his keys, unlocks, goes inside, closing the door after himself, flips the framed photo beside the door aside to access the hidden keypad, pushes the code buttons, then settles the photo back in place.</p>
<p>He goes to sit down by his desk. He switches on his computer, taps his password on the keyboard, and then touches his fingers to the fingerprint scan touch screen. All three screens come to life.</p>
<p>Quickly, he opens a program and taps a couple of commands. One screen shows the history of logins and failed logins on his network. No failed logins this year, but last year and the year before, there’s a couple of attempts to access his wifi. He clicks on the posts from the oldest and forward and chuckles at the passwords Sam obviously had tried. ‘Asdfgh12345’ for instance, and ‘JackDaniels’. But also ‘ImADick’ and ‘flowers’. Flowers is in the right direction, at least. He switched the name of the network regularly and always made the password something related to the name of the flower he named it after. He doesn’t mind people accessing his network. If they do, he’ll get an alert on his phone and can easily tap into their device, tracking what they do, steal information as he pleases.</p>
<p>The last post showing Sam trying to access his wifi wipes the smile off his face. There’s only one password tried that day, at the end of last year. ‘SomebodyPleaseHelpMe’. That doesn’t sound like a real try to crack the code.</p>
<p>“You’re amping this up to a bad level of interesting, Sammy,” he tells the room, then digs his phone out of his pocket. He shuts off the voice recording, then stares at his phone with a scowl, hesitating for a long while. “The things your bubblegum mouth and dimples make me do, Sam. You owe me big time.” He dials a number he isn’t even sure is in use anymore.</p>
<p>“Gabe Williams, speaking.” Gabriel picks up at the fourth ring, and his voice brings a painful pang in Nick’s heart.</p>
<p>“Hey, little brother…”</p>
<p>“Lucifer! Luci, is that you?”</p>
<p>“The one and only.”</p>
<p>“You asshole! Holy crap, I’m so glad to hear from you! <i>Cas</i>! Luci’s calling! Shit on a dick, Luci, where are you? Are you alright? It’s been eleven fucking years! We’ve been worried. You need to come home for a visit. You got family? A nice wifey or husband for me to mack on? A bunch of mini-devils running around your feet? Stop it, Cas! I’m speaking with him now―”</p>
<p>“Luci? Luci, is it really you?” Castiel’s voice brings yet another pang of painful longing.</p>
<p>“Yes, little brother, it’s me, alright.”</p>
<p>“We’ve missed you.” In the background, there are scuffle noises and Gabe telling Cas to give the phone back.</p>
<p>“I’ve missed you too. You still dating Balt?”</p>
<p>“It’s an open relationship, but yes. Will you come to visit?”</p>
<p>“Not likely.”</p>
<p>“I gathered. I’m glad to hear from you, though. I will hand the phone back to Gabe now, or he’s going to break my arm clear off.”</p>
<p>Nick chuckles. “Take care of yourself, Cassie.”</p>
<p>“You too. And remember that you’re always welcome in my home as long as I’m alive.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Cassie. Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll find me on your doorstep, set on freeloading.”</p>
<p>He hears Cas snigger recede, and then Gabe is back. “Heya, Luci. The little shit snatched the phone right from me.”</p>
<p>“What did you expect?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, you know Cas. He’s so docile you forget how fast he can be when he wants to. You alright?”</p>
<p>Nick smiles. Gabe is calmer now the first shock has settled. “I am. You at a family reunion or something?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. But Cas and I decided to skip out early. Holy shit, I’m so glad to hear your voice. You’ve got nibblings now. Did you know?”</p>
<p>“Nibblings?”</p>
<p>“Nieces and nephews.” </p>
<p>“Whose?”</p>
<p>“Mine and Mikey’s. I’ve got five kids with five different gals. I’m not settling down, though. Mikey got married and has two kids. Guess what he named them? Nicholas and Lucille.”</p>
<p>Nick chuckles and feels like throwing up. Fuck Mikey. “Bet that went over well with father.”</p>
<p>“As well as you’d expect. What the hell happened, Luce? Mikey and father won’t talk about it.”</p>
<p>Nick sighs and covers his face with his hand. </p>
<p>He’s quiet too long. “<i>Aaand</i> neither will you, it seems,” Gabe says. “Mikey hasn’t been the same since you left.”</p>
<p>“You make it sound like I had a choice.”</p>
<p>“Hey, you didn’t have to abandon me and Cassie. You know we don’t give a shit what father says. We won’t turn our back on our brother.”</p>
<p>“It was too painful, Gabe. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”</p>
<p>“So what makes you call now?”</p>
<p>“I need help. I know how passionate you feel about the law…”</p>
<p>Gabriel sniggers. “Lay it on me.”</p>
<p>“I need information about Dean and Sam Winchester, born in Lawrence, Kansas…” Nick gives Gabe all the information he has, except Sam’s current address. Gabe hates the law with a passion and will jump at any chance to break it. But with finesse. Nick could do this himself, but it’s for the best if it can’t be traced back directly to him. Hacking into files about adoption, police records, and such is best left to Gabe. He won’t do it himself, but Gabe has contacts with hackers much better than Nick, that won’t risk leaving a trace.</p>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please comment. :) I'm stressed out of my mind, just having started an online education so every little comment brings a breath of relief. ^^ &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Jewel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam may or may not be stalking Nick. Nick is a generous, bad influence.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warnings:<br/>-offensive language<br/>-M/F underage BJ<br/>-Breathplay</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Jewel</h3>
</div>Whether Dean has planned to come for Sam or not will remain a mystery a while longer. Dean, now named Dean Campbell, didn’t get lucky enough to be adopted to a stable home. He’s been moved from place to place, including several bouts at mental institutions. He’s currently in jail with a rap sheet a mile long already at 19: Assault, robbery, armed assault, credit card fraud, sexual assault. The list goes on. He’s currently serving a five-year sentence. Nick asks Gabe to find out if Dean still remembers his kid brother and the promise he’d made and puts Dean out of his mind until further notice. John Winchester is serving a lifetime sentence. Now that one is interesting. Sam said he was in jail for murder, but failed to mention that John’s a serial killer, with 9 confirmed murders under his belt, suspected of an additional 23 murders.<p>On the surface, it would seem Sam’s the lucky one to get adopted by a pastor in a quiet suburb where he could go to school and become a basketball jock. </p>
<p>On the surface, that is.</p>
<p>But Sam hunches his shoulders and makes himself smaller when he nears his home. Sam steals painkillers and sleeping pills. Sam goes pliant when a grown man grabs him by the hair.</p>
<p>Something is seriously wrong, and Nick’s not willing to blame a fucked up early childhood for that. Ten years is enough to heal the damage done to a small child if they’re treated the right way.</p>
<p>It’s a shame Sam’s cry for help went to Nick.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sam doesn’t speak to him, but pops up everywhere. Nick wonders if he’s being stalked. On the off-chance that Sam will be brave, he leaves the backdoor unlocked when he’s at home and awake. But Sam doesn’t come.</p>
<p>A man can’t live on tending flowers alone. Nick’s had a shit day, with shitty customers and even more shitty staff. Annie comes storming in twenty minutes late, pissed the hell off. Andrew won’t be in for another hour due to a doctor’s visit, so Annie was supposed to handle the store alone for an hour. She waves a paper in his face. “This is all your fault, you fucking dick!”</p>
<p>Nick snatches the paper from her and scrutinizes it. It’s her payslip. “What about it?”</p>
<p>“My pay has been docked because you ratted me out!”</p>
<p>Nick hums. “So?”</p>
<p>“That’s such a shitty thing to do. And why the hell didn’t you tell on Andrew while you were at it, asshole?”</p>
<p>Nick sighs. “You consecutively come in 10 to 20 minutes late. Which means unpaid overtime for me, unless I tell on you. But hey, I’m a nice guy, so I didn’t. Then you lied to me about whether Sam was here asking for me or not, and I had enough.” He hands her the payslip back. “If you’d shown me some loyalty, I’d been fine with just chewing you out anytime you came in late.”</p>
<p>“I got 300 bucks for one month’s work. 300! How the hell am I supposed to pay my rent with that? Did you think of that, fuckhead?”</p>
<p>“What’s interesting here is that you got your pay docked for every minute you’ve been late this year, and still you decide it’s a good idea to come in late? How exactly are you reasoning?”</p>
<p>“Fuck you! You think you’re getting away with this? I’m getting my money back. It’s your word against mine, jerkface. And I’m a much better seller than you. I’ll get you fired. Fucking retard!”</p>
<p>Nick gives her a bored look. “Sure. It’s your words against mine. And the security camera footage. But let’s go with what you say.”</p>
<p>Annie looks stunned. “What security cameras?”</p>
<p>Nick grabs his jacket and shrugs into it. “I’m leaving now. Good luck with getting me fired.”</p>
<p>Annie bursts out crying. Nick just shakes his head and leaves the store. Tears never made much of an impression on him. And when they did get to him, it was in the wrong way. There’s a sticker on the door with a security camera, but the cameras are hidden. Not his problem. As many times as he’s told Annie to be on time so he could leave his shift on time, one would think she would have gotten the message. Some days he just hates his employees.</p>
<p>Instead of walking directly home, he heads for Arlington street. Jewel’s standing by her corner, as usual, this time of day on Wednesdays. He meets her gaze, jerks his head towards a nearby alley, and turns to walk into it. He stops by the wall and starts opening his belt.</p>
<p>When Jewel turns the corner, he’s already got his pants open and massages his dick outside his boxers.</p>
<p>“Hey, Nick, sweetie. It’s been too long,” she greets him with a sultry smile. She’s 24 years old and much too gorgeous to work street corners for pocket change, but she’s too fucking stupid to realize she could be charging more than ten times of what she does.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to pay for small talk, Jewel. Get on your knees. I need to unwind.”</p>
<p>Jewel tuts. She’s got a daughter that she claims she has to take care of. It’s a shame half her pay goes towards drugs rather than her daughter. But there it is - stupidity. He’s no stranger to doing drugs, but it’s about priorities. “Aw, sweetie. In a bad mood today, huh?” She comes up to him and crouches down in front of him, stroking his thighs.</p>
<p>“Very. Come on, Jewel. Don’t dawdle. And keep your eyes closed.” He pulls down his boxers and pulls his dick out. It’s already half hard. By now, she knows her chance of getting a tip from him is bigger if she doesn’t demand money upfront. If he’s to pay upfront, he won’t pay a dime more than required, but otherwise, he almost always tips. They’re working folks. If they get the job done, he doesn’t mind spending a little extra.</p>
<p>She pouts and pretends to be disappointed, batting her eyelashes. He gives her an impatient scowl. She smirks and sucks him into her mouth, closing her eyes as asked. His head falls back to the brick wall. “Fuck. Good girl.” He pets her head while she blows him. He <i>wants</i> to grab her hair and fucking choke her on his dick, but he’s never rough with the working girls and boys. He saves that for others, those he’s with because they choose to. A prostitute can say no, by all means. It’s still not as satisfying, knowing they might think they can’t say no. “You know, I’d prefer to get blown on my couch?”</p>
<p>She pops off long enough to answer. “I don’t do house calls, Nick.”</p>
<p>“I’d make it worth it, but suit yourself.” It’s an offer he rarely gives to prostitutes. She’s a rarity due to her beauty. He hasn’t told her what he’d pay. He can get it for free from others if he puts his mind to it. Something he’s planning to, once he’s done with her. It’s harder to pick someone up if you’re desperate for it.</p>
<p>He only gets a glob-sound in response.</p>
<p>All of a sudden, Sam turns the corner and stops dead, eyes going wide and mouth falling open. The kid has no business running around on this street unless he’s after the same thing as Nick. Jewel doesn’t notice since she keeps her eyes closed. Nick raises a finger to his mouth and signals for Sam to be quiet, smirks, then winks.</p>
<p>Sam stands staring, cheeks growing hot and bulge growing in his pants. </p>
<p>“That’s it. Keep that going, girl,” Nick encourages. He keeps his gaze locked on Sam, and Sam looks mesmerized by watching Jewel’s lips on Nick’s cock. Nick imagines Jewel and Sam switching places. Or better, both on the ground before him. He moans silently. Fuck, that’d be nice. Either would be good. Jewel is beautiful, but Sam’s new and has eyes that shift color. He doesn’t like the look in Jewel’s eyes. Never did. They’re too defeated, no matter how much she tries to pretend she’s into it.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take too long for him to come since he isn’t trying to hold it in. He tugs lightly on Jewel’s hair to warn her, so she can pull off in time, then comes on her face. Sam’s the one to whine when he does. That boy is screwing himself by circulating around Nick. </p>
<p>“You want to have a go, Sammy? My treat,” Nick asks. </p>
<p>Sam’s eyes go impossibly wide. Kid’s doomed. Nick will fuck him, jailbait or not. Not today, but someday.</p>
<p>Jewel opens her eyes and looks towards Sam in surprise.</p>
<p>“Jewel, that’s my nephew, Sam. He just turned 18. You’d blow him too, right? A 100 for the both of us?” Jewel’s standard fare for a blowjob is 30 bucks. Coffee money. It’s nothing. She’s practically handing them out for free. Stupid.</p>
<p>She smiles at Sam. “Of course. Come here, sweetie.”</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t move.</p>
<p>“I’m not going to force you, Sammy. But if you want a BJ, you gotta get yourself over here,” Nick coaxes while tucking himself into his boxers.</p>
<p>Sam closes his mouth, swallows, and walks into the alley. When Jewel raises her hand to wipe Nick’s come off her face, Sam raises his hand urgently. “<i>Don’t</i>. I mean, can you keep it on? While you… um… when you…”</p>
<p>Both Jewel and Nick chuckle.</p>
<p>“Of course, sweetie. Whatever turns you on.”</p>
<p>Sam takes his place beside Nick and swallows dryly. “T-thank you.”</p>
<p>“It’ll be a quick one. We need to be on our way,” Nick tells the both of them, and because he’s the asshole he is, he reaches out and unbuttons Sam’s jeans for him in a businesslike manner, all to get a chance at feeling that hard dick press against the back of his fingers. Sam’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t protest. Jewel waits with a sultry smile for Sam, caressing his thighs like she’d done to Nick. She leans in, pulls Sam’s dick free, and takes it into her mouth. Sam makes a whimpering noise Nick wants a recording of, played as a lullaby to ensure sweet dreams.</p>
<p>“Close those peepers, Jewel,” Nick urges. Jewel closes her eyes and starts working Sam over with a hand and mouth. Nick leans his shoulder to the wall and alters between watching Sam’s face and what’s going on downstairs. Sam’s mouth is hanging open. He’s looking down with wide eyes, unstable heavy breath hitching repeatedly. Sam’s dick is as big as his. Longer, even. But with less girth.  “When you’re about to come, you tug on her hair or pat her shoulder, Sam. It’s rude not to warn, and in many cases, if you’re paying for it, coming in their mouth costs extra.”</p>
<p>Sam makes a noise that could mean anything in response.</p>
<p>Sam reaches down and strokes away some of Nick’s come off Jewel’s face. He raises the hand and puts his sticky fingers in his mouth, tasting the come. Nick finds Sam’s curiosity delightful. But then Sam does it again, and the game changes. </p>
<p>
  <i>Fuck. You little piece of shit. </i>
</p>
<p>Sam swipes every drop of come from Jewel’s face and licks it off his fingers with needy sounds. It ignites a possessive heat in Nick’s midsection. The only thing that could make this hotter is if Sam had a busted lip and a band of bruises around his throat. Given that Nick had put those marks there, that is. Those embers of possessiveness in Nick’s belly meant nobody else gets to touch Sam without consequences if Nick doesn’t hold himself back. Sam’s making increasingly loud noises, so Nick reaches out and presses his hand over Sam’s mouth and nose to keep him quiet. Sam closes his eyes and tries to suck in air. Instead of trying to pry Nick’s hand loose when he fails, his hips jerk, fucking into Jewel’s mouth, and he leans back and relaxes his upper body against the wall.</p>
<p>Making the whole thing into fucking edge play.</p>
<p>Nick’s so here for that.</p>
<p>It’s a fucking shame they live in a state with 18 as the age of consent.</p>
<p>That’s never been a problem for Nick before. </p>
<p>He doesn’t have many compunctions, and while he’s not one to care about his partners’ age (or looks), he’s generally not interested in teens simply because they’re usually not interested in him. He knows he’s broken consent laws before. There’s been a couple of girls in bars that have claimed to be older than they were, whose IDs, to Nick’s trained eyes, obviously had been fake. But most states have laws that declare that if the perpetrator genuinely believes their partner is of age, they can get away with it. That’s the bar for Nick’s supposed morals. ‘Can I get away with it?’</p>
<p>With the neighbor’s kid, he obviously can’t claim that defense.</p>
<p>No. This time he’ll have to eat the bait and slip off the hook.</p>
<p>Fuck it. It’s going to happen. This fucked up kid has his claws in Nick, making want course like acid through his veins. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s had a relationship deemed unhealthy, immoral, and illegal with somebody.</p>
<p>Sam squeezes his eyes shut hard, makes a suffering barely audible sound, and taps Jewel in a warning. She pops off just in time. Nick’s hand might be the only thing holding the boy up as he comes.</p>
<p>“Good boy. That’s it.”  Nick removes his hand and takes out a packet of tissues from his pocket. “You can look now, Jewel,” he says and hands her the pack when she opens her eyes. He takes up his wallet and leaves his two companions to clean themselves up and gather their wits about respectively. </p>
<p>“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jewel says and gets up, drying her face off with a tissue. “You should come here more often. You’re missed.”</p>
<p>Nick snorts in amusement and takes five $20 bills out of his wallet. “Sure, I am.”</p>
<p>“I’m serious, Nick. I’m not the only one who likes you as a customer.”</p>
<p>“House calls, Jewel,” he counters with a lopsided smirk.</p>
<p>“Won’t happen.”</p>
<p>He hands her the money and pockets his wallet. “Then you’ll just have to wait for me here as always. Your loss.” He turns to Sam, who’s managed to tuck himself in and close his pants. “You ready to go, dimples?”</p>
<p>Sam nods groggily.</p>
<p>“Hey, Nick, sweetie? Can I get a kiss before you go?” Jewel asks, surprising him.</p>
<p>“I’m not paying extra for it.”</p>
<p>Jewel smiles. “I’m not asking for money. 100 bucks for ten minutes work is good enough for me.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.” He gives Sam a shove on the shoulder, wordlessly telling him to leave, then tugs Jewel close, cups her cheek, curves his shoulders in around her, and kisses her the same way he usually does when he’s here for more than just a quick BJ. Apparently, Jewel likes the way he kisses. Who knew? He’s not one to say no to freebies of any kind.</p>
<p>Sam takes two steps and turns around to watch them. Nick doesn’t pay him any mind. He’s got his arms full of a beautiful young woman making noises of pleasure. Right now, that’s the better deal. The boy can wait. That’s a game of patience anyway.</p>
<p>After a minute or two, Jewel reluctantly lets go of him, slightly disheveled, lips red and swollen. He fixes her hair. “Alright, Jewel. Back to your corner now, or you might miss out on some cash before Sheila gets here and chases you off.”</p>
<p>Jewel giggles. “You’re a good man, Nick.”</p>
<p>“I’m really not. Catch you later, darling,” he says and waves her goodbye, then starts walking, pushing Sam in front of him.</p>
<p>Sam comes along obediently when Nick’s hand falls away. “Was that the first time you’ve gotten a BJ?” Nick asks.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“How come? You shouldn’t have any trouble get girls to suck you off.”</p>
<p>“It’s not that easy.”</p>
<p>“It really is, kid.”</p>
<p>Sam snorts derisively. “Sure. If you’re <i>paying</i> for it.”</p>
<p>“Whores are convenient. It doesn’t make it difficult to get it for free. Just trash talk a woman the right way, and she’ll be gagging to get on her knees to prove herself to you.” There are a million other ways too. Creating mystery, compliment her for the parts of herself she likes the best, notice things about her that slips other people’s eyes, make her laugh. Humiliation isn’t Nick’s only technique. He won’t tell Sam that. The boy has gotten his view of Nick from Bonahue, so he’ll play into that. It’s not like the pastor is wrong about Nick being a lowlife. The pastor should know. It takes one to know one, after all.</p>
<p>Sam gives him a disgusted look but doesn’t answer. They walk silently for two blocks before Sam speaks up. “I thought you were gay.”</p>
<p>“What the hell gave you that idea?”</p>
<p>“I saw you with a guy. Two years ago. You came home late. It looked like you were kissing.”</p>
<p>“So what if I did? Doesn’t make me gay.”</p>
<p>Sam sniggers in skeptical amusement. “Yeah. It kinda does.”</p>
<p>“No. That makes me horny and all-inclusive. Calling me gay would imply that I’m into guys exclusively.”</p>
<p>Sam’s catty golden hazel eyes move as if he’s thinking. “So...you’re bi?”</p>
<p>“As long as it’s alive, human, and old enough to want me, I’d fuck it. Simple enough.”</p>
<p>“Where are we going?”</p>
<p>“We? We’re not going anywhere. <i>I</i> am.”</p>
<p>“But you said we were in a hurry.”</p>
<p>“I also said you were my nephew and over the age of consent. It’s called lying, Sammy.”</p>
<p>“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Sam complains.</p>
<p>Nick stops and turns to face him. “Sam Bonahue, I keep giving you credit for more brainpower than you’re showing me. I get that you want to hang out. But you’re too young. You’re not showing enough maturity for me to want you around. You’re fifteen, and I doubt you can act like an adult. I want mature company, kid. You’re better off leaving me the hell alone and be the good son your dad wants you to be. Go play with children your own age.” It’s all bullshit. The trash talk he’d told Sam about. A play on Sam’s insecurities to draw him in.</p>
<p>Sam bristles. “I’m not his son, alright? And I’m older in here than you think I am,” he snipes and taps his skull with a finger.</p>
<p>“Fair enough. Hope you brought your fake ID. I’m heading to pub Anchor to get drunk, play pool, and get laid.”</p>
<p>Sam makes a frustrated face and lowers his gaze in disappointment.</p>
<p>Nick hums. “Thought so. See you later, kid.” With that, he turns and walks away. Sam doesn’t follow this time. A game of patience. When Nick’s done, Sam will be firmly under his thumb.</p>
<p>He makes a mental note of making a fake ID for Sam.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Voyeur</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick comes home to discover he's being treated to a new view.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A reminder: Unlike Little Bird, this <i>isn't</i> a fic about healing, it's a fic about descending into madness. It's dark.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Voyeur</h3>
<p>He comes home at 9 PM, comfortably drunk and sated. It turned into one of those days that offered all of the good things in life. Booze, drugs, sex, and fighting. The knuckles on his right hand are bruised and aching. It’s a good ache. He makes a round of his house, watering all the plants, habitually picking off dead flowers and leaves, turning pots in windows so they’ll bloom more evenly.</p>
<p>Then he grabs the banisters to jump the child gate by his stairs, skips upstairs, sheds his shirt in the upstairs bathroom for a quick wash, and goes to his bedroom to put on a fresh tee and boxers. That done he cuts the light. There’s light from outside he hasn’t seen for years. His eyes snap to the window. There it is. The blinds are up and the curtains pulled aside in the room opposite his in the pastor's house.</p>
<p>“I’ll be damned.” </p>
<p>He’s looking straight into Sam’s room.</p>
<p>He should have been able to figure that out easily, considering there are only two rooms upstairs save from the bathroom. The master bedroom, and the room he uses as an office. It’s only logical that the pastor would assign it to Sam. He hadn’t given that any thought whatsoever, because for the last ten years, to his knowledge, the blinds have rarely been up, and if they have, the curtains are always drawn. It’s one of the reasons he himself rarely bothers closing his own blinds.</p>
<p>Sam’s not in the room, but all the lamps are on so he can see the whole room. He gets that this is on purpose. Sam’s left the curtains open and lamps on for his sake, and it thrills him. Beside the door, there’s an old la-z-boy. The nightstand and bed are on one side of the room, a desk with a computer on the other. There’s a picture of Jesus and a big cross on the walls, and that’s it. A prison cell if Nick’s ever seen one. There are some clothes scattered on the floor and bed, a shirt hanging over the desk chair, a couple of books he can’t see the title on from this distance. There’s a basketball on the floor in front of the small closet door beside the desk.</p>
<p>Nick moves his own swivel recliner and its ottoman to the window, goes to fetch his phone and laptop, just in case, then sits down and waits.</p>
<p>It’s quarter past 10 when the door opens. Sam enters, led by Pastor Bonahue. Sam is completely naked, and Bonahue still in his dark suit and priest collar. Nick wants to blow the pastor’s fucking brains out for the grip he has around Sam’s bent neck. Bonahue pushes lightly on Sam’s shoulder, and the boy goes down on his knees in front of his bed. He laces his fingers together, elbows on the bed, keeping his head bowed and his eyes downcast. Bonahue sinks down by the bed beside him, mimicking his position, supposedly to lead him in prayer, blocking Nick’s view of the teen. He can see Bonahue’s lips moving. The pastor gets up, lifts the comforter, and Sam slips in under it. The pastor then bends down, once again blocking the view for a moment, before he gets up and goes to the door. He stops, turns around, says something to Sam while digging keys out of his pocket. Sam answers with a nod and words. Bonahue puts keys in the door, cuts the light in the ceiling, says something more, then leaves, closing the door―presumably locking it.</p>
<p>A prison cell indeed.</p>
<p>Sam lies still staring at the door for a long time, the lamp on the nightstand revealing his tense expression. He half sits up, tilting his head in a way that tells Nick he’s listening intently. He gets out of bed, goes to the door, and presses his ear to it, showing off his back and ass to Nick. He’s got several dark welts striping his back and ass.</p>
<p><i>Now, now, Bonahue. That’s no way to raise a child,</i> Nick thinks darkly.</p>
<p>Sam straightens up, relaxing, snatching a pair of Adidas pants from the floor. He pulls them on. He takes a military green shirt from the bed, buries his nose in it, and inhales deeply.</p>
<p>Nick’s pulse jumps in excitement. It’s Nick’s shirt. Sam’s fucking sniffing his shirt. He tampers down his excitement, reminding himself that Sam may do it, thinking he’s watching.</p>
<p>Sam puts the shirt back by his pillow and pulls on another shirt. He kills the light and goes to the window. Nick sees him look over at Nick’s side. He’s half-expecting Sam to wave, but Sam looks down on the ground floor, up at Nick’s bedroom window, then at the street, wearing a troubled frown. He shakes his head, looking disappointed, goes back to his bed and lights the lamp again, then goes to sit by the computer, switching it on.</p>
<p>Nick’s surprised Sam didn’t see him. While the lamp is lit in Sam’s room, Sam can’t see out. But Nick thinks he ought to have seen him when he darkened the room. There’s no source of light in Nick’s room. He hasn’t turned on the laptop yet. So maybe Sam didn’t see him. Or he’s acting.</p>
<p>Sam taps on his keyboard, visibly annoyed. He’s at it for five minutes when he suddenly grins victoriously. Nick doesn’t have to wonder why, because his phone beeps. He checks it and sees the notification of a new device connected to his wifi network.</p>
<p>Nick starts his laptop and opens the spy program. He’s not a hacker himself as such, (even if he knows more than most) but knows all the right people and got what he needs to access any computer stupid enough to hook up to his network. It takes about three minutes before he’s in and can follow along with Sam’s surfing. At first, the good boy researches the plants he’s planted. That pleases Nick. Then Sam searches for ‘How to appear more mature’. Nick laughs aloud. He reads along on the WikiHow Sam opens and shakes his head. “This is bullshit, Sammy. These aren’t tips on how to seem more mature, this is how to be more obedient. None of that, please.”</p>
<p>He lifts his head in time to see Sam make a grimace and close the tab. Next Sam searches for ‘How to run away from home’, leading him to another WikiHow page.</p>
<p>Nick skims it through disinterestedly and resigns himself to watch the teenager while Sam procrastinates online. Sam does a search for ‘Nick Perditus’ to Nick’s great amusement. He tries Nicholas, Niklas, Klaus, and Nicolai Perditus too, getting vexed when he gets nothing. He then searches numerous sites for Dean Winchester. By the look on his face, Sam’s long given up the hope of actually finding something. He goes on to look at nearby dog shelters, looking at pictures of dogs available for adoption.</p>
<p>
  <i>Run away from home or get a dog, Sammy? You gotta make up your mind on that if you want to keep the dog alive and healthy.</i>
</p>
<p>Sam looks towards the window with an uncertain frown and drums his finger against the desk. He pulls his tee over his head and drops it on the floor, then gets up, walks to his bed and puts Nick’s T-shirt over his head, and lets it hang bunched up around his neck. He goes back to the computer and opens up PornHub.</p>
<p>Nick couldn’t care less about Sam’s age now. The boy might look older than he is, but he could've looked younger and Nick would be just as mesmerized. Neither does it matter if Sam knows he’s being watched and is putting on a show, or if he thinks Nick’s still out and does this anyway. Sam clicks around on different categories. He looks at a couple of trending vids, switches to bi M/M/F threesomes, stroking himself outside his pants while he watches. Nick’s never been particular with his porn. If he watches, he opens up the first thing he sees, jerks off quickly, comes, and moves onto other things, losing interest in the porn the moment he comes. Maybe it’s youthful inexperience mixed with curiosity, but Sam’s not like that. He takes his time, searching for the perfect clips. He watches some BDSM, finally pulling his pants down, stroking himself openly and lazily. Nick’s getting really fucking turned on looking at him. Sam watches a couple of chikans with his mouth hanging open, speeding up his strokes.</p>
<p><i> Where are your morals, boy? Rape and sexual assault turns you on that much?</i> Nick tuts, fired up by the corruption of Sam’s mind. What he really likes to know, if it’s the fantasy of being the girl, or being one of the gropers that turn Sam on.</p>
<p>Sam goes to the gay section and scrolls through page after page without clicking anything. When he finally <i>does</i> click on something, Nick curses and pulls his own dick out of the boxers. He’s already sporting a semi, so it only takes him a few quick strokes to take him to full mast.</p>
<p>Sam lifts the collar of Nick’s shirt and hitches it over his nose, leans back, plays with his nipples, and speeds up his strokes, tensing in the way you do when you’re aiming to climax. The video he’s staring at depicts an older, blonde guy with stubble, fucking a young twink with longish brown hair. The older guy is buffer than Nick, and the twink is a lot more skinny than Sam, but the similarities are enough not to leave any doubts as to who Sam is fantasizing about.</p>
<p>Nick’s already had sex tonight, not counting Jewel’s BJ, yet it takes him precious little time to come. When he’s done he’s feeling a mixture of excitement, contentment, and anger. Anger at Sam for playing this game with him. 11 fucking years he’s been flying under the radar and it takes a fucking teenager to ignite this corrosive fire in his veins. Last time he’d felt it, his whole life fell apart.</p>
<p>When Sam’s about to come he closes his eyes and presses a hand over his mouth and nose like Nick had done to him today, trapping Nick’s shirt (and consecutively his scent) between. His whole body spasms, shooting stripes of come over his belly.</p>
<p>
  <i>Sam, baby, I’m going down because of you, and I’m gonna make sure you’re going down with me.</i>
</p>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for commenting. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Facebook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's only so long Nick can stay a silent watcher before he's baited into contact.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Facebook</h3>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s curtains remain open.</p>
<p>Anytime Nick catches the goodnight ritual in the room across from his, he hates Bonahue more. Bonahue always leads Sam in, and Sam’s always naked when he does. They pray together, Bonahue lifts the comforter, Sam lies down on his back, and Bonahue fucking kisses Sam goodnight. <i>On the fucking mouth</i>. It hadn’t been obvious the first night, but now that Nick’s seen the ritual five times, he’s sure of it. Who the hell kisses his fifteen year old son on the mouth? Fucking perverted bible thumpers, that’s who.</p>
<p>Nick might be jealous, but that’s not the point.</p>
<p>Bonahue also locks the door when he leaves, and unlocks it at 7 o’clock sharp every morning.</p>
<p>Sam never stays in bed. He’ll go to sleep at 1 or 2 AM.</p>
<p>Sam’s got facebook, and on the sixth day Nick caves and sends a friend request. He’s got the highest level of privacy settings, so Sam hadn’t found him while searching, and search, he had.</p>
<p>Right now Sam’s chatting with a girl from school and Nick’s torn between wanting to hijack Sam’s account to correct his clumsy attempts at flirting, and wanting to sabotage them because they’re working, albeit not as effectively as it could have. So, Nick sends a friend request. He can see when Sam sees the request, because Sam jumps in startlement, head snapping to the window.</p>
<p>Nick sniggers.</p>
<p>Sam drops Nick’s shirt to the floor ‘discreetly’, gets up and goes to the window, cups his hands around his eyes to shut the light from the room out and looks out. It seems like Sam still can’t see him, so Nick reaches out and lights the lamp beside him, then raises his hand in a lazy wave. He’s sitting in his recliner, feet on the ottoman and laptop on his lap. One window open with Sam’s current internet activity, and his webbrowser in another window side by side.</p>
<p>Sam goes back to the computer, accepts his friend request and sends him a message, then looks up to watch him. “Hi.”</p>
<p>Nick chuckles and shakes his head. “If that’s foreshadowing of what it’s going to be like to talk to you like this, this is going to be an awfully one sided conversation, Winchester. You can do better than a simple ‘Hi’.”</p>
<p>Sam smiles when he reads. “K” He turns his head towards the window and raises his eyebrow with a sardonic smirk on his lips.</p>
<p>Nick laughs. The little shit. </p>
<p>Nick crosses his arms in front of his chest, tilts his head, and waits. He can’t see Sam as well when he has his lamp lit, the reflection of himself and the room overlays the view. On the bright side, Sam can see him too like this.</p>
<p>Sam gathers that he’s not answering and starts typing again. He writes ‘Hello from the other side’, then deletes it without pressing send. Nick reminds himself not to respond or react to anything Sam doesn’t send his way. “What are you doing?” Sam writes instead.</p>
<p>“Enjoying the view.”</p>
<p>He sees Sam smile briefly before schooling his expression. ‘Can I come over?’ Sam writes then pauses. Nick’s pulse quickens while he waits. Sam wants to come over. He can see Sam’s hand hesitating over the enter button, then Sam deletes the text and simply writes “Creep,” instead.</p>
<p>So close.</p>
<p>“There’s this little thing called curtains, Sammy. If I should happen to see something I shouldn’t have, it’s purely happenstance.”</p>
<p>“Did you see me naked?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Sam turns his head and looks at him with a frown. Nick wiggles his eyebrows and leers, showing with his expression that he indeed has seen him naked. </p>
<p>Even from here he can see Sam blush.</p>
<p>“If you were older, I’m sure it would be a view worth looking at though,” Nick adds. ”For now I leave it to children your own age to imagine you naked.” This way, Sam hopefully will turn uncertain if Nick’s seen him or not, plus making a jab at his age might spur him to try to prove himself.</p>
<p>“I’m not a child,” Sam counters, taking the bait.</p>
<p>“You keep telling me that. One day I might even believe you. How’s your project coming along?” Nick switches subjects.</p>
<p>Sam glares at the window, then, “Good, actually. I’ve gotten all three of them to grow now. Coaxed Bonahue to buy me a special lamp for the third one. I put it in the fridge at night. According to google, the temperature drops to almost freezing at night where they grow in the wild.”</p>
<p>“Well done, Sam. I’m impressed.”</p>
<p>Sam smiles, looking vastly pleased with himself. “Have you got siblings?” he asks. </p>
<p>“I do. Several. Haven’t seen them in a long time though. What’s your favourite class in school?”</p>
<p>“Does basketball count? If not, history.”</p>
<p>“Tell me, Sammy, Bonahue is obviously very controlling. How does that work with late basket practice and games?”</p>
<p>“My coach belongs to his flock, and he trusts him to make sure that I don’t do anything stupid.”</p>
<p>“Ah, yes. He wouldn’t want you to end up like me.”</p>
<p>Sam smirks when he reads the answer. He once again types in ‘Can I come over?’ but changes his mind. He writes ‘It doesn’t seem so bad to be like you’ but erases that as well. Instead he writes “Exactly. Who the hell wants to be a sad, pathetic, drunk loner when they get old?”</p>
<p>“You do, Sam. You'd rather grow up to be like me than like your daddy.”</p>
<p>Sam gives him the finger. </p>
<p>Nick sniggers. He’s infinitely pleased that the girl Sam had been chatting with in the other window is trying to get his attention but Sam has totally ignored her since they started chatting.</p>
<p>“Tell me, Winchester, how old do you think I am?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. 30?”</p>
<p>“Now you're just sucking up. It won’t work. Be honest. How old am I?”</p>
<p>Sam turns his head and stares at him for a long while. “You’re not older than 40,” he writes at last. </p>
<p>“True.” What Nick wonders is why Sam’s interested in someone more than double his age, when he can have a pretty girl his own age. </p>
<p>“So how old are you?” Sam asks. </p>
<p>“Younger than 40.”</p>
<p>Sam gives him a glare through the window. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you ever log onto my network with your phone?” Nick asks. He’s been wondering about that. If he were Sam, he'd hook himself up to WiFi the moment he was within range. </p>
<p>“I'm not allowed to have a smartphone. Bonahue won't buy me one.”</p>
<p>“So get one yourself.”</p>
<p>“I can’t afford one.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say buy one. There are other ways to get a phone.”</p>
<p>“You mean, steal one?”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid. I'd never tell you to commit a crime. Nevermind the legal consequences. There’s the adrenaline rush, the fear of getting caught. And think about how sad those rich kids get when they lose their latest Samsung or iPhone. You wouldn’t want to have that on your conscience, would you?” Nick hopes Sam will see how out of place it is to list the rush as a negative.</p>
<p>Sam reads with a confused frown, then looks at Nick.</p>
<p>Nick gives him a shiteating grin and waggles his eyebrows. “Besides, it wouldn’t look good for the Pastor’s precious little pet to be a thief,” he adds, watching Sam’s eyes jump to the screen the moment he starts typing. “But come to me when you have a smartphone and I’ll give you a prepaid phone card.”</p>
<p>He watches Sam mull this over. It seems like Sam suddenly has an epiphany. “Thank you, but no thanks. Besides, I would never steal in my life,” he writes, then he grabs a notebook by his side and writes something. He stands up, goes to the window, and presses the notebook against it. Nick has to put his laptop aside, stand up, and squint, to be able to read. “<i>I’LL HAVE IT TOMORROW.</i>”</p>
<p><i>So you finally figured out I don’t want any screenshots taken of me saying stupid shit to you, huh? Clever boy.</i> </p>
<p>Nick gives him a pleased thumbs up and goes back to his laptop. “I know you wouldn’t. Now off to bed with you. It’s a school day tomorrow and you need to be sharp.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, alright. Goodnight.”</p>
<p>“Sweet dreams, dimples.”</p>
<p>Sam obediently shuts his computer off, gives Nick a little wave, crawls into bed and cuts the light.</p>
<p>Nick’s dreams that night are graphical and about a stupid teenager he’s dragging down to share hell with him.</p><hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. What's in a Name?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick finds out more about Sam's past and makes a couple of promises.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Mention of sexual (kinda) activity between kids, and grooming/brainwashing of a young child.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>What’s In A Name?</h3><p>Sam comes running towards the place Nick’s hidden. When Sam thunders past, Nick dodges out of the alley, grabs him by the arm and yanks him in. He pushes him against the wall and presses his hand to his mouth. The fear in Sam’s eyes before he realises it’s Nick, is a fucking delight. Nick removes his hand when Sam relaxes. “You got it?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s right he―“</p><p>Nick stops Sam from pulling the phone out. “Why were you running? Were you followed?”</p><p>Sam shakes his head. “No. I wanted to get home fast to―“ he snaps his mouth shut abruptly, cheeks colouring.</p><p>Nick bites his lip and fails to contain a smile. “Couldn’t wait to see me, huh, Winchester?”</p><p>“No that’s not… I wanted the card. That’s it. Nothing else.”</p><p>“Really, darling? What if I want something in return?” Nick leers and crowds in, intending to spook the boy. It’s one thing fantasising and manipulating from afar like Sam does, but up close reality usually unsettles people.</p><p>“Then maybe I’ll give it to you,” Sam counters, jutting his chin out defiantly, not unsettled in the least.</p><p>Nick scoffs and backs up. “I swear, you’re nothing but trouble, boy. Now come on.” He turns on his heel and starts walking down the alley. Sam’s a fucking menace. The things Nick wants to do to him aren’t pretty. The way Sam’s acting, Nick’s going to end up doing them whether Sam wants it or not. He recognises this fire in his veins. It’s not the first time he’s burned like this. Noxious, lethal flames that will make him jump through hoops and take risks he wouldn't normally take. It didn’t end well the last time and it won’t end well this time either. “Did you nick the phone or did someone give you their old one?”</p><p>Nick’s almost out of fucks to give.</p><p>“I stole it off Brock Turner. He just got it. He’s―“ Sam answers, hurrying to catch up.</p><p>“I know who he is. A douchebag. Just like his douchebag parents. Good choice.”</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“To trade in that phone against another that isn’t hot. You won’t get the latest model, but you’ll be able to use it around people without sounding the alarm. Unless you’d rather risk getting caught with Turner’s phone?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>They walk a couple of blocks to a tobacco store and step inside. The Indian man behind the counter is reading a comic book. He looks up and breaks out in a huge grin when he sees Nick. “Nicky! Long time, no see!” He gets up and comes around the counter, offering his hand to Nick. Nick grabs it and is pulled in for a back-slapping hug.</p><p>“Isaac, my old friend. How’s the wifey?”</p><p>“Still dead, I’m afraid,” Isaac answers. They both laugh at the old inside joke while Sam waits awkwardly behind Nick. “What brings you here, Nicky? I’m not in trouble, am I?”</p><p>“Not at all. I need help. My nephew Sam,” Nick steps aside and grabs Sam’s shoulder, tugging him upfront and throws his arm around his shoulder, “has a hot phone but wants a cool one.”</p><p>“We can fix that,” Isaac tells them.</p><p>“Plus, Sam just turned 21. But he lost his driver’s license and doesn’t want his parents to know. He’s still living at home. It’s sensitive business, you know?”</p><p>Isaac looks between the two of them for a beat. His gaze locks with Sam’s, a slow smirk spreading on his lips. “Nephew, huh?”</p><p>“You know it, Isaac,” Nick says and winks at him. “Isn’t it right, Sammy?”</p><p>“Yes, uncle.”</p><p>Isaac lets out an amused huff. “I don’t know how you lured Old Nick out of hibernation, Sam, but congratulations to you. You’re in for a wild ride.”</p><p>Nick scoffs. “Shut it, Ice. Leave the boy be. I’m only being charitable. I can be, you know?”</p><p>Isaac sniggers. “Oh I <i>know</i>. I’ll never forget your charitable side. And if I was younger I’d jump on the train. Alas, that fucking hip of mine hurts more with each year. What name do you want on the card?”</p><p>Sam looks adorably confused, as well as he should. Nick hopes Sam will think they’re speaking innuendos, and not get the deeper meanings. The things him and Ice had been up to back in the days, has absolutely <i>nothing</i> to do with sex.</p><p>Nick looks at Sam with a little quirk to his lip. He claps his free hand to Sam’s chest. “How does Samuel Henry Winchester sound to you?”</p><p>Sam’s breath hitches and he turns his head to stare wide eyed at Nick. Fuck, he’s got the most beautiful puppy eyes when they’re not narrowed in spite or suspicion. ‘Samuel Henry Winchester’ is the name on Sam’s birth certificate. Bonahue changed Sam’s name to ‘Samael Azazel Bonahue’ when he adopted him. Seeing <i>that</i> had surprised Nick. Why would a pastor adopt a boy and give him the name of two fallen angels? By the look on Sam’s face now, Sam knows very well what his birth name is.</p><p>“Um, yeah. Yeah, yeah. That sounds… sounds good,” Sam stutters.</p><p>Isaac smirks knowingly. “Samuel Henry Winchester it is. What birthday?”</p><p>“May the 2nd, 2001,” Nick answers, still gaze locked with Sam. Thoroughly enjoying the vulnerability in the boy’s hazel eyes. Not to mention the warmth of him bleeding through their clothes.</p><p>“I’m on it. Hand me the phone and I’ll see what I can trade it for.”</p><p>“You heard the man. Give him the phone,” Nick coos in amusement when Sam doesn’t react.</p><p>Sam shakes himself out of his trance, and digs up the stolen iPhone 7 from inside his jacket. He’s managed to nick the airpods to go with it too. He hands them over to Isaac.</p><p>“Good, good. What do you want in exchange? iPhone or―“</p><p>“Samsung,” Nick answers for Sam. It’s more convenient for him if Sam has what he has.</p><p>“Right.” Isaac looks at Nick. “You need hardware?”</p><p>“Nope. All set.” Isaac knows Nick well. That question was about guns, not phones. Their military days had done to Isaac and him, what prison does to others. He’d joined the military as a punk, and come out of it as a hardened criminal.</p><p>“Well then. Come along, Sam. Let’s take some photos of you…”</p><p>Isaac grabs Sam by the wrist and pulls him out of Nick’s grasp, then leads him off to a door behind the counter, disappearing through it. Nick goes to stand behind the counter while Isaac does his bit. Two ordinary customers drop by during the time Isaac and Sam are gone, and Nick serves them as if it’s his regular job to sell tobacco.</p><p>Once Sam’s done, brandishing a used―but new to him―Samsung Galaxy S5 LTE, they leave with a promise from Isaac to text Nick when the fake ID is done. Nick made sure to memorise the number of the card Isaac put into Sam’s phone, excited about getting a way to contact Sam that Bonahue can’t control. Better yet, a channel to communicate with no paper traces to either of them. </p><p>Sam carries the phone like it’s the holy Grail, in both hands, pressed to his stomach, and keeps staring at Nick while they walk. “What are you doing?” Sam asks after several minutes of silence.</p><p>“Giving back what was stolen from you,” Nick answers simply. He’s not talking about the phone.</p><p>Sam’s following his line of thoughts perfectly. “How did you know my name?”</p><p>“You told me.”</p><p>“I never told you my middle name is Henry.”</p><p>Nick feigns surprised. “It is? What a lovely coincidence.”</p><p>“How did you know when my birthday is?”</p><p>Nick hums. “Might I not just have noticed it? We’ve been neighbours for ten years after all.”</p><p>“We never celebrate my birthday.”</p><p>“Hm. Lucky guess then. Tell me, Sam, you wouldn’t happen to know why old Pastor Fork-tongue named you after two fallen angels? It’s been bugging me.”</p><p>Sam averts his gaze, shoulders hunching. “Because I’m unclean, diseased, tainted. It’s in my blood, and I’m never to forget that. Only he can purify me,” Sam answers, tone going flat and dead. It’s something he’s been made to repeat many times, Nick can hear it. Manipulation. Same as telling yourself something in the mirror to lift your confidence, except the other way around.</p><p>“Do you believe that?”</p><p>Sam hesitates, then shakes his head without confidence.</p><p>
  <i>You do believe it then. I’ll see what I can do about it ...or how I can use it to make you my pet instead of his.</i>
</p><p>“Are we talking about an actual blood disease here, or is he referring to your father?”</p><p>“Dad. He’s talking about my dad. Um… and. Something else.” Sam flushes a bright crimson.</p><p>Nick sniggers. “Something else? I’m all ears, munchkin. <i>Do</i> tell.”</p><p>Sam side eyes him then looks at his feet, kicking a stone as he walks. “Um…. Okay. ….So get this. When they arrested dad, Dean and I were placed in a Christian orphanage being run by the church Bonahue belongs to, right? He’s on the ruling council of twelve in the church. Once a year they tour all the facilities to inspect them, but divide it, so there’s monthly inspections. Anyway, when he came to inspect the orphanage, Dean and I were taking a bath, playing and splashing and stuff. We’d never had a bathtub before.”</p><p>“They let you kids bathe alone?” Nick interjects.</p><p>“No, yeah. Look. We were in the bath when the Pastor came. They never know when inspections are going to come, alright? Dean’s responsible. He looked after me. There was someone outside the door and no doors had locks. They just left their post when the Pastor came.”</p><p>“No locks, huh? Yeah, I can’t see why children who probably have experienced trauma could need privacy,” Nick says sarcastically. “Go on.”</p><p>“Um… anyway. We were playing and I touched his… um… it was an accident, I swear! But it grew, and it was bigger than mine. And, um… I touched it again, on the tip, and it bounced. It was funny, and I remember laughing.”</p><p>“And Dean?”</p><p>“Um… he went still. And, uh, lifted his hip so <i>it</i> stuck up over the surface. He just stared at me, red in the face, but he didn’t say anything. He let me play with it. Uh. And that’s when the Pastor walked in….” Sam’s so red in the face now that the next shade’s going to be purple if he blushes any harder.</p><p>“So let me get this straight. A 5 year old and a 9 year old are taking a bath in a tub for the first time. The 5 year old accidentally touches his older brother’s dick, and his brother pops a boner, basically discovering that it feels fucking fantastic when somebody else touches his dick. Little brother isn’t aware he’s crossing boundaries and is just delighted at discovering the reaction. Had anyone told you not to touch Dean’s, or anyone else’s dick, before this?”</p><p>“Not that I can remember? I mean, dad had told me only to play with my dick when I was alone…”</p><p>“Had anyone told you there’s a limit for how close brothers are allowed to be for it to be socially acceptable?”</p><p>“Not as far as I can recall. But I was barely five. Some things that happened around dad’s arrest are crystal clear in my memory, but a lot of things before that are fuzzy.”</p><p>“Mmh. Because that period was traumatic. It could have gone the other way and blocked it all out of your memory too. But go on. What happened when the Pastor walked in.”</p><p>“He wasn’t alone for starters… He yanked Dean out of the tub by the hair and foisted him off to the lady, telling her to punish him and to leave us alone. Then he explained to me, um, what kind of tainted creature I was, and, uh, told me he was going to save me…. When he came to get me the day after, it took four grownups to hold Dean back. He kept screaming he was going to come for me. Come get me back. Bonahue told me it was because I contaminated him with my disease.”</p><p>“So you've waited patiently for your brother. You’re smart enough, and old enough, to realise that maybe he couldn't come while he was in foster care. But last year he turned 18 and he still hasn't come. So you’re desperate to find him. Am I right?”</p><p>“Yeah. He always keeps his promises. Something must be stopping him.”</p><p>
  <i>Like jail.</i>
</p><p>“Or, he was <i>nine</i> when he made that promise, and life got in the way. 10 years is a long time at that age.”</p><p>“No. You don’t know Dean. He'd remember. Besides, I was 5 and I remember.”</p><p>“Fair enough. But he could have been told you're doing great, and that you’re happy with your new dad. That he'd tear up a lot of wounds, destroying the life you've built, if he was to resurface now. He could be staying away because he thinks he's doing you a favour, Sammy.”</p><p>“But it’s not true,” Sam says, a desperate edge to his voice. </p><p>Nick stops and turns to face Sam. He reaches out to cup Sam’s cheeks before he can stop himself. “I know it isn't, darling. But <i>he</i> doesn’t. We'll find him. Don’t you worry about it. I'll find him for you. Okay?” </p><p>Sam looks at him like he's a God damned saviour, not another predator manipulating him. “Okay.”</p><p>“Good.” Nick lets go of him and starts walking again. “Can you drive a car?”</p><p>“I've never tried.”</p><p>“Really? We'll have to do something about that, since you’re about to get a driver’s licence. Let’s go home and get my car.”</p><p>“I'll never pass for 21, you know?”</p><p>“Not with that attitude, you won't,” Nick agrees. “I'll teach you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Spit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick falls for the temptation to offer Sam a drink. Sam manages to take it to the kinkier side of things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings:<br/>Underage drinking<br/>Spit</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Spit</h3>
<p>Sam’s ecstatic after the lesson. The boy learns quickly, keeps his head calm, and has quick reflexes. He made mistakes. Of course he did. That's the point of learning something new. Afterward, he sticks to Nick like a burr, following him inside to the kitchen and trails after him while Nick tends to his flowers. Nick goes to the kitchen table, sits down, and tells Sam to get him something to drink. Sam doesn’t ask what. He puts two glasses on the table, then opens the cabinet where Nick keeps his booze, deliberates with himself for a beat, before choosing ordinary Jack D. He puts the bottle on the table and sits down, once again beside Nick instead of any of the four remaining places that offer more distance between them. </p>
<p>Nick unscrews the bottle cap and chugs straight from the bottle. Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust. “That’s gross. Only pathetic losers drink straight from the bottle,” Sam tells him. </p>
<p>Nick lowers the bottle, puts an arm over the backrest behind Sam, and pointedly licks the bottlenose clean (possible using too much saliva on purpose). He turns his torso towards Sam and holds the bottle towards Sam’s lips. Sam glares resentfully at him but opens his mouth. Nick tips the bottle. Sam closes his lips around it and drinks deeply. </p>
<p>The liquor is too strong for Sam. He sputters and coughs, getting some in his airway, coughing harder. Nick rights the bottle just in time to keep from spilling. He takes a couple of deep swallows and sniggers at Sam’s grimaces and full-body shudder.</p>
<p>“<i>Oh, fuck,</i>” Sam complains, blinking tears from his eyes from inhaling the whiskey, once he’s recuperated from his coughing fit. </p>
<p>“Enough?” Nick taunts and lifts an eyebrow. </p>
<p>Sam leans his head back on top of Nick's arm, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out, flat against his chin.</p>
<p>Nick laughs. He wonders if there’s a book called ‘How to turn Nick on 101’. If so, Sam must have read it. Nick obligingly puts the bottle against Sam’s tongue. “You’re stupid, darling. This will get you drunk fast and sick even faster.”</p>
<p>In response, Sam closes his mouth around the bottle. Nick leers, that dangerous fire coursing through his veins, and tips the bottle. Sam drinks deeply, managing several swallows before he squeezes his eyes shut and lifts his head to make Nick stop pouring. </p>
<p>This time some spills on his chin. Nick puts the bottle on the table and drags his finger over Sam’s chin to catch the spill while Sam struggles not to throw up. Nick licks off his finger. “It’s called intoxication because it's poison, sweet cheeks. You'll be throwing up in no time if you keep it up.”</p>
<p>Sam’s panting, chest heaving in the aftermath of drinking so fast. “You can do it,” he states. </p>
<p>“Obviously I'm the perfect role model,” Nick answers dryly. And, because he’s stupid and Sam’s gorgeous, he takes a couple of swallows from the whiskey, hoping to egg Sam on. He can drink a lot, but he rarely drinks this fast. It’s fucking idiotic to get yourself shitfaced within an hour. You don’t have the time to measure when you've had too much. By the time you feel it, it's too late and you're better off sticking your fingers down your throat to rid yourself of the excess, than wait for it to enter your system. </p>
<p>“More,” Sam challenges defiantly. Sam’s such a good boy, letting himself be goaded. </p>
<p>“You’re going to get in trouble when you get home, Sam.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care.”</p>
<p>“Are you so fond of the cat o’ nine tails, dimples?”</p>
<p>“How did you―?”</p>
<p>“Know? I know whip marks when I see them, darling.”</p>
<p>Sam juts his chin the way he does when he’s being bullheaded. “Yeah? I still don’t care.” With that he leans his head back against Nick’s arm and opens his mouth, side eyeing Nick disdainfully.</p>
<p>Nick sniggers silently, but obliges the dumb boy.</p>
<p>20 minutes later Nick is well above tipsy. Sam’s nothing but a stupidly smiling goo with glossy eyes and rosy cheeks. He’s lying on his back across his chair with his head in Nick’s lap, looking up at him from under heavy eyelids, one arm rested on his stomach and the other one dangling in the gap between their chairs.</p>
<p>“More?” </p>
<p>“You’ve had enough, jailbait. In 15 minutes or so you’ll be on your knees hurling it all up again, swearing to never have another drink in your life.”</p>
<p>“Doubt it,” Sam slurs and opens his mouth in a silent plea for Nick to pour.</p>
<p>“I swear, you’re thirstier than a calf is for milk.”</p>
<p>“<i>Aaaaa</i>....” Sam replies, trying to coax him to give him more booze, lazy eyes smiling.</p>
<p>Nick looks down on him, collects saliva in his mouth, and spits right into his open mouth. </p>
<p>Sam must have seen what he was about to do. He <i>must</i> have. But the fucking boy just closes his mouth to swallow, then opens his mouth again, ready for more. The smile in his eyes never wavers.</p>
<p>Nick’s heart jumps, hit by a wave of arousal. His cock fills way too fast. He spits again, just to see if the reaction will be the same. Just saliva though. He doesn’t clear his throat or anything like that. That’d be gross, and something you do to an enemy or someone you hate.</p>
<p>But Sam just swallows, happy as can be. </p>
<p>Sam’s not the dumb one of them. He is.</p>
<p>If Sam wasn’t about to become very sick very soon…</p>
<p>But he is.</p>
<p>“Boy, you’re nothing but trouble. Can’t you go away and come back in three years?” Nick whines.</p>
<p>“No.” Sam turns his head, where it’s rested on Nick’s thighs, just enough to look at the visible bulge in Nick’s jeans, and sniggers in self-satisfaction. He looks back at Nick and opens his mouth again.</p>
<p>Nick makes a displeased noise and gives in. He takes the bottle from the table, fills his mouth with whiskey, then tilts his head down, letting a small stream drop from his mouth to Sam’s waiting mouth. He wishes the boy would sit up and suck it straight from his lips. He wishes the boy wasn’t so drunk. He wishes the boy wasn’t so young. He wishes a lot of things.</p>
<p>Sam swallows and gives him a brilliant drunk smile. Fuck him.</p>
<p>“Alright, sunshine. It’s time for you to go and face the consequences of your actions before they turn dire.”</p>
<p>Sam pouts.</p>
<p>“I’m serious, Winchester. Get out.” Nick pushes on Sam’s shoulders, helping him to sit up.</p>
<p>“Kay, okay,” Sam says and holds onto the table not to tip over. “Whoa… ‘s spinnin’.”</p>
<p>“No shit. A hot tip from a pro. Go stick your fingers in your throat and throw up as much as you can before you leave. You’ll feel better and won’t get so sick and hungover. And eat something when you get home. Drink lots of water. Alcohol makes you dehydrated.”</p>
<p>Sam stands up, sways, and turns around to face him with a grin. He makes a sloppy salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”</p>
<p>“First Sergeant,” Nick mutters under his breath. </p>
<p>Sam might be dumb and drunk, but he sure as hell isn’t deaf. “Sergeant? Wait. Are you―?”</p>
<p>“<i>Go!</i>” Nick snarls loud enough for Sam to flinch.</p>
<p>“‘M goin’. ‘M goin’,” Sam answers, holding his hands up in apologetic surrender. He turns and sways with a stumbling gait out of the kitchen.</p>
<p>Nick hisses between his teeth in frustration and drags a hand over his face. He listens to Sam noisily making his way to the toilet. Sam’s in there for a long time. Nick’s just about to get up and go see if he passed out when he hears Sam flush and water start to run. Then he hears Sam come out from there and makes his way to the backdoor. Sam closes the door.</p>
<p>Then there’s only silence.</p>
<p>Nick gets up and goes to the window in time to see Sam unsteadily round the corner to his own home and enter the front door. Nick goes to the bathroom to check its status. Judging by the white bubbles floating in the toilet Sam took his advice to heart. Nick checks the cabinet and concludes that even totally wasted, Sam had the presence of mind to steal another blister-strip of sleeping pills, and five more OxyContins. A check in the laundry basket shows that Sam’s returned the previous shirt he stole, just to nick another one.</p>
<p>Nick sits down on the toilet seat, resting his elbows on his thighs, and his head in his hands. </p>
<p>“I’m in deep shit.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Annie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick decides to buy a piece of cheesecake for Annie. He instantly regrets it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings:<br/>Child abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Annie</h3>
</div><tt><b>Nick:</b> Hello, Darling. Regretting yesterday? </tt><p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> Drinking or going home? </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> Either. Both. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> I should have stayed the night. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> I'm surprised he let you stay home from school. I would have forced you to go, to teach you a lesson. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> School is a privilege currently revoked. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> He forbade you to go to school? </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> Yes. For the rest of the week I'm confined to my room. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> He locked your door? </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> Yes. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> Then how do you eat or go to the bathroom? </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> I don't, and I've got a bucket. </tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> FFS!!! Open your window, I'm throwing some food in before I go to work. </tt>
</p>
<p>Nick makes a couple of sandwiches, pours coffee in a thermos and puts two cans of soda in a plastic bag, ties the bag shut, and goes to stand under Sam's window. Sam sticks his head out, looking like shit. Sam catches the bag when he throws it up, giving Nick a grateful look.</p>
<p>Nick can't get Sam's pale, drawn face out of his mind during work. Andrew calls in sick, so Nick stays to take his shift. Annie's early for once. She's sad about something. Not that she tells him, but it's in her eyes and in the lack of luster in her smile. They barely speak. He thinks she's a spoiled bitch, and she thinks he's an asshole. Usually, she chatters on anyway when they're forced to work together. Now her silence grates on him.</p>
<p>During his break, he takes one of the company cars to a bakery across town. He comes back with a large piece of her favorite cheesecake and puts it in front of her on the counter. "Here. Go eat it in the staff room. I'll take care of customers."</p>
<p>Annie gives him a surprised look. "Why?"</p>
<p>"I don't know. You haven't told me," he mutters and rubs his bent neck. "Just figured you needed a pick me up. Don't make a big deal out of it."</p>
<p>She stares at him with a wide-eyed, open expression. He can't take it. He huffs and wanders off before it gets awkward. </p>
<p>A while later, she comes to stand looking at him while he's crouched down, doing inventory. She shuffles from foot to foot until he can't ignore her anymore. He looks up, raising his eyebrows in a silent, testy '<i>What?</i>'</p>
<p>"Thank you."</p>
<p>"Don't mention it." Nick goes back to work, but Annie doesn't leave. After another minute of silence, he looks back up again. </p>
<p>"Andrew's cheating on me."</p>
<p>Nick holds back the urge to groan. Instead, he hums noncommittally.</p>
<p>"I thought we had something special. I really did. But yesterday, I saw him with somebody else."</p>
<p>"Uh-huh?"</p>
<p>"He doesn't seem like a guy that would do something like that. He'd told me I'm the only one for him. He says he loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me. So how can he do something like that?"</p>
<p>Realizing he won't be able to get out of this, Nick sighs and stands up. "Sweetheart, you can't tell with people. Andrew's a smooth guy who knows how to get liked by people, women in particular. It's a skill he has. That doesn't mean you can trust him. When the dick starts talking, it makes a real fucking convincing case, alright? Either you forgive him and accept the fact that it will happen again, or you tell him to fuck off. <i>Or</i>, you forgive him and get yourself something on the side."</p>
<p>"You think he'll cheat again?"</p>
<p>"I'm positive he will. You're a beautiful woman, Annie, but there will always be someone prettier, younger, or simply newer than you."</p>
<p>"You think I'm beautiful?" she asks skeptically. It's probably the first compliment he's given her. Ever.</p>
<p>"I think you're an arrogant and spoiled bitch, but I'm not blind. You're gorgeous, and you know it. Which might very well be the reason you're so arrogant, to begin with. You get away with too much. Well, Andrew's the same. He gets away with things due to his charm."</p>
<p>"I can't help the way I look," she snipes defensively. </p>
<p>Nick chuckles. "Sure you can." He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his shoulder against the shelf beside him. "And you do. Always impeccably dressed in brand clothes that flatter you, perfect makeup, skillfully applied to fool the denser male half of the population on this planet that you're not wearing any: good posture and a killer smile. You'd probably look good wearing dirty sweats too, but you'd rather be shot than seen in something like that. Don't think you can fool me to think you're not making an effort."</p>
<p>Annie studies him, trying to discern if he's derogatory. He isn't. She relaxes. "Thanks, I guess. Most people don't get that."</p>
<p>Nick shrugs. </p>
<p>"I don't know what to do. First, I got my paycheck docked and had to borrow money from mom to cover rent. Now, this. If I break up with him, it's gonna be really awkward working together. I'm afraid I'll get fired if I ask to move shifts now after… you know." She actually looks ashamed. "I mean, I was super pissed at you for ratting me out. Then mom told me to tell the boss how many times you'd been late to hit you back. And I realized that you've never been late. But you've come in early a couple of times. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think ten minutes now and then was such a big deal."</p>
<p>"It isn't—more of an annoyance. But you're late more often than you're on time. I've got a life of my own. As much as tinkering with flowers is a hobby of mine, I fucking hate dealing with customers and want to go home by the end of my shift."</p>
<p>"But why didn't you rat out Andrew too?"</p>
<p>"Because when somebody asks for me personally, it's a huge fucking deal, and I want to know about it. If you can't be bothered to tell me, you can fuck right off. I don't demand much from you, but that crossed the line for me."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," she repeats and looks at the floor. She draws breath to say something more, but the bell announces a customer. She gestures that she's going to serve the person. Nick nods, and she wanders off. Nick resumes his work, devoting his hearing to listening in on her upbeat sales tactics. She's good. Whatever he may think of her, he can't deny that. The man comes in to buy a bouquet of flowers to say, 'I'm sorry for fucking up.' From the start, he picks a generic, cheap, premade bouquet. Nick and the others use flowers that don't quite measure up to make those, selling them inexpensively rather than throwing them away. </p>
<p>But Annie convinces the customer to buy something entirely different. An arrangement of flowers that is way pricier and so much prettier. That would be good in itself, but she also manages to persuade him to order flower arrangements for an office party tomorrow. This is why he puts up with her. When she came here, she knew absolutely <i>nothing</i> about flowers, despite proclaiming she loves them. She's come a long way since then. Now she talks about caring for the flowers, their individual symbolism, and telling historical anecdotes about them. Honestly, today he'd trust her to care for the greenhouse, too, if it wasn't for how she treats him and her habit of disregarding her schedule.</p>
<p>"Nick, you got time to do a delivery to Baker street?" she calls out.</p>
<p>"Yup."</p>
<p>He hears her confirm to the customer that they'll gladly deliver for him both today and bring the arrangements to his office tomorrow morning on their early delivery run. Nick's pleased. He takes out his phone and texts Sam.</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> Have you had anything to eat today, Darling?</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> Only what you gave me.</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b>  I'm doing a delivery run. Want me to pick you up some take away?</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> YES</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> Anything particular?</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> food</tt>
</p>
<p>Nick chuckles and shakes his head.</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b>  I'll call you when I'm in the car.</tt>
</p>
<p>A moment later, he's in the car with the arrangement Annie just sold, on his way to deliver it to a duped girlfriend. Cheating is a profitable business for him. When someone else does it, that is. He gives Annie credit for not letting her own hurt feelings get in the way of a sale. He calls Sam and puts on the speakerphone.</p>
<p>"Hello, it's Sam."</p>
<p>"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have gotten the wrong number," Nick jokes.</p>
<p>"Ha ha, real funny, jerk."</p>
<p>Sam's grumpy voice makes Nick smile. "How are you feeling?"</p>
<p>"Like shit. I'm kinda glad I didn't have to go to school today. But I hate being locked in."</p>
<p>"He really makes you use a bucket as a toilet?"</p>
<p>Sam sighs. "Yeah. It fucking stinks. I try to keep it in, but… you know. You gotta go, you gotta go."</p>
<p>"Mh. How long will you have to wait until he comes home and lets you empty it?"</p>
<p>"Can we not talk about this? You mentioned food."</p>
<p>Nick doesn't like how Sam deflects the subject. "You know this is a matter for the police and child protective services? He's breaking the law, denying you basic care."</p>
<p>"Nick, please don't call the police! I never would have told you the truth if I thought you were gonna do that. Besides, I'm used to it."</p>
<p>Nick grunts in displeasure. The fuck does that boy think of him? Why wouldn't he?</p>
<p>Although, it's in his own interest that Sam isn't removed from the neighboring house until Nick's figured out how to keep him.</p>
<p>"Fair enough. What do you want to eat?"</p>
<p>Nick gets a hamburger meal and stops at a convenience store to stock up on snacks and food that can be kept at room temperature, water, and soda. All things that can be hidden under the bed and will diminish the sting of the fucked up punishment Sam's getting. </p>
<p>At Sam's, he throws a rope up first so Sam can pull the other stuff up without shaking the soda. Technically, Sam can use the rope to climb up and down, too, if he's strong enough.</p>
<p>Pleased to see that Sam's not as pale and drawn anymore, he goes about his other business.</p>
<p>Back at the nursery, Annie's been uncharacteristically productive, finished the inventory, and cleaned up the store. "You've been working hard," Nick says, using a tone that makes the statement a question.</p>
<p>"Andrew's not here to distract me. Nick, what am I going to do about him? I just…"</p>
<p>She won't shut up.</p>
<p>One bloody cheesecake, and she thinks they're besties all of a sudden? He liked it better when she left him alone or snapped profanities at him.</p>
<p>It's his own fault. </p>
<p>Fair enough.</p>
<p>At least, she works while she talks, and work goes smoothly. He can deal. Best of all, she takes care of all the customers.</p>
<p>When they're locking up, Annie stands outside looking miserable. He wants to leave her like that. Finally, get some blessed silence. He starts walking away, then foolishly turns his head to see her still standing there, looking forlorn in the direction she supposedly lives in.</p>
<p>Not wanting to go home. At home awaits only silence, pain, and dark, hurt thoughts.</p>
<p>He knows it all too well.</p>
<p>"Hey, Annie. Wanna go for a beer?"</p>
<p>Stupid. </p>
<p>Her head snaps in his direction, brown eyes wide and surprised. "I… I can't afford it this month, but thanks."</p>
<p>"Don't be daft. I'm buying. We can talk about how men are assholes and get shitfaced. You wanna come or no?"</p>
<p>"Uh…" She throws one last look in the direction of her home, then turns to start walking towards him. "Okay."</p>
<p>Stupid.</p>
<p>He was so close to freedom.</p>
<p>They go bar hopping. Nick takes her to places he's known. At the first two places, Annie's surprised at how well he's greeted, getting smiles, hugs, and admonishments about not coming often enough. Apparently, it eludes her how he can be liked. He doesn't blame her. However, by the third place, they're tipsy and having a ball. It's hard to tell who's the most surprised about the both of them having fun together. He teaches her to play pool, foolishly flirting because he's a moron. Beautiful girl, alcohol, and being on his home turf makes him relaxed. It's not that he's planning to actually do something with her. He’s not <i>that</i> stupid.</p>
<p>The problem of going out with a beautiful chick like Annie to places like this is other men. They pass a table where a drunk scumbag reaches out to cop a feel under her skirt. Nick swats his hand away before he's managed to do more than just graze her. "Watch it, fuckface. That's no way to treat a lady," he warns.</p>
<p>"If she's dressed like a whore, she's asking for it," the scumbag answers.</p>
<p>Nick rolls his eyes. "If the whores you see are classy enough to dress like her, you know you'll have to cash out at least 500 bucks to cop a feel like that. I ain't seen no money trade hands." He's placed himself between the scumbag and Annie to keep her safe.</p>
<p>"Fuck off. It's none of your business what I do."</p>
<p>"When you molest chicks, you're fucking well making it my business."</p>
<p>The scumbag gets to his feet with an ugly grimace. He's big, drunk, and mean. Nick's sure most people are intimidated by him. He points at Nick's face threateningly. "You listen to me, you little shit. I'm gonna fuck you up so bad y―"Nick sucker-punches him, then drives his elbow into the back of his skull when he folds over, laying him out.</p>
<p>Nick looks at the two guys still sitting at the table, staring at him. "Anyone else have a problem?" he asks calmly.</p>
<p>"Nu-uh."</p>
<p>"Not me."</p>
<p>Nick turns in the direction from where the bouncer is walking towards them. "Hey, Urban. This fucker pawed at my girl and tried to start shit. Take out the trash, will you?"</p>
<p>"On my way, Nicky."</p>
<p>Nick nods and turns back to Annie. He throws an arm around her shoulder possessively and leads her towards the bar. She's tense and quiet. "I'm sorry about that, Darling. I know it's no fun when your company gets into a fight."</p>
<p>"No. It's okay… Thank you."</p>
<p>Nick grunts. "It's common fucking courtesy."</p>
<p>"Not as common as you think, Nicky sweetheart," Gemma, the bartender, says with a smile and puts a beer and a jägermeister in front of both of them. "Here. On the house."</p>
<p>"You know me, Gemma. I never say no to free drinks," Nick says and jumps up on a barstool, body turned towards Annie but directing a cheeky smile towards Gemma. Gemma is close to fifty. He likes her. She's a perfect combination of sweet and jaded. One hell of a lay too. </p>
<p>Annie sidles in to stand in the V of his legs, pressing herself surprisingly close. He curves his arm around her waist without further thought. He takes her jäger and hands it to her, then lifts his own shot glass for a silent toast. Annie looks up at him with wide brown eyes, chin tilted down and plush mouth slightly open, lower lip pouting in that way that can make any woman look vulnerable and innocent. He might hate her a little for it. There's no way she's as helpless as that look would have him believe. It makes him want to curl around her, box her in, and growl at any man who dares stand too close. Yet he's no better than the rest of them. He's done awful things towards women in his life. Things no amount of alcohol and drugs can make him forget. It's been a while since. But still. He's done it, and he'd do it again.</p>
<p>Annie's got curves where it counts and a tiny waist. He likes how she feels against him. He gives her a lopsided smirk. She smiles a little cutesie smile and raises her glass in a responding toast. They both tip their heads, throwing the shot down.</p>
<p>Nick puts his empty glass down, tilts his head to the side, and studies her from under heavy eyelids. She's still not fully at ease. She's got long, brown, glossy, straight hair. Nick thinks there's some Asian influence in her genetic makeup. Her hair looks so soft. He wants to touch it, so he does. He strokes some hair back from her face. It's like silk. "You okay there, Darling?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. Yeah. Sure. It's just… I'm a bit rattled."</p>
<p>Nick snorts. "You don't fool me. It's not the first time a guy's tried to grope you."</p>
<p>"What?" Annie giggles and shakes her head. "God, no. But it's the first time a guy's defended me. I'm so used to carry the I-can-take-care-of-myself shield that having a guy defend me left me feeling, I don't know. Vulnerable? Usually, if anyone comes to your defense, it's always other women."</p>
<p>"Amen to that," Gemma interjects from further down the bar where she's filling a beer for another customer. "Or if men help you out, they expect a reward."</p>
<p>"Hey, I got one, didn't I?" Nick jokes, raising the empty shot glass and wiggling it pointedly. He looks back at Annie. "Seriously though, you want a guy that'll fight for you; you need to stop dating boys like Andrew and start dating men who aren't afraid of conflict."</p>
<p>"Like you?" Annie says dryly, raising an eyebrow skeptically.</p>
<p>Nick smirks. "Darling, I don't date anymore. I only do casual. Besides, I'm trash with an alpha complex. I'm nothing but trouble to a nice, good girl like you." </p>
<p>"Don't listen to him, sugar. Nicky here's a doll. More bark than bite. He's all soft and squishy on the inside."</p>
<p>"Shut up, Gemma," Nick whines. "Don't go filling her head up with bullshit, or she'll expect shit out of me I'm not going to deliver on."</p>
<p>Gemma chuckles, jumps up to lean over the bar, smushily grabs his cheeks with a hand and places a kiss on his lips. He reciprocates it on autopilot. "Denial will get you nowhere, sweetheart." She lets go and grabs the jäger, pouring them two more shots, and directs herself towards Annie. "He's a good man. You go out with him; he'll pay for everything, keep you safe from start to finish, never leave with someone else, <i>and</i> he's a great lay, making sure his partner comes before him."</p>
<p>He's not a good man. But he can fake with the best of them. "Don't mistake that for generosity, Gem. I like feeling a pussy spasm around my dick, and that's that. Would you leave us be? Please?"</p>
<p>She sniggers, winks, and wanders to the other end of the bar to serve other patrons.</p>
<p>"Oh my God, you're so crude," Annie says with a bemused smile. She puts one of her hands on his thigh and grabs the refilled jäger. </p>
<p>"Mh. Not crude as much as basic." He reaches out and combs through her hair with the hand not around her waist. </p>
<p>"So why don't you date? Is it a principle thing?"</p>
<p>"Not at all, Darling. Having a relationship is taxing. I like to own my time. Plus, unlike Andrew, I'm loyal to the point of stupidity when I commit to someone. It ruins me. I get used and hurt. I know I get used, and I let it happen because I'm a moron. I don't know how to love with moderation. Better to keep things simple."</p>
<p>"You're not like I expected. You're not an asshole outside of work."</p>
<p>"Sure I am. Just another kind of asshole." He bends down, cups her cheek, and kisses her. He's stupid. But he's tipsy, and they've had an ongoing silent conversation, conveyed with touch and body language, that told him he has a greenish light. She lets him kiss her, responds, kissing him back. He wonders what else she'll let him do.</p>
<p>His phone vibrates. He breaks the kiss to fish it out of his pocket and look at it. It's a text from Andrew. "Whelp. Looks like it's going to be you and me working the morning shift tomorrow," he says and shows her the text.</p>
<p>"Oh my God, that'll be awkward."</p>
<p>Nick sniggers and puts his phone away. "With other words, no change there." </p>
<p>She giggles. It's all he needs to bend down and kiss her again. She still lets him.</p><hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for commenting. :) It really makes my day.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Pussy Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick's all too easily led astray.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings:<br/>Straight sex. It's funny how that has to be a warning in fics, huh? ^^'<br/>Is there a point to this chapter? Yes there is.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Pussy Power</h3>
</div>They stumble into his home, kissing and pulling at each others’ clothes. They’ve made out all the way in the taxi and consequences are the last thing on his mind. Annie tears herself away and looks around curiously. “Wow. This is not what I expected from you.”<p>“Just because I’m trash doesn’t mean I want to live in it.”</p>
<p>“No. But this is really nice. I guess I'm prejudiced. I'm not expecting a single guy to have flowers, pretty curtains, and throw pillows.” He saunters after her into the living room, allowing her to intrude on his privacy. It isn’t called ‘pussy power’ for nothing. She reaches out to almost touch the photographs on the wall. “These are amazing. Did you take them?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Normally people ask about the celebrities in the photos, rather than who took them. She's stroking his ego. He wraps his arms around her from behind and kisses her neck.</p>
<p>“Why aren't you a professional photographer?”</p>
<p>“It’s just a hobby. My father didn’t approve of my love for plants. This he approved of, though. He’s no longer in my life, so I'm free to work with my passion.”</p>
<p>She puts her hands against the wall and arches her back, letting him rub up against her while she studies the pictures. “Could you take photos of me?”</p>
<p>“You want to be a model, darling? I can shoot portfolio pics for you, but I no longer have the connections needed to make a name for you.” Honesty isn’t his strong suit. He still has those connections. He just doesn’t want to call them. He pinches her nipples lightly through the fabric of her blouse and drags his lips and tongue along her neck. She gasps and rubs her ass against the hard bulge in his pants. </p>
<p>“No,” she answers breathlessly. “I’m already working with what I want. But I like to have nice pictures of myself.”</p>
<p>“Instagram chick, huh?”</p>
<p>“Is there something wrong with that?”</p>
<p>“Nope.” His hands wander in under her skirt, curves around the inside of her thighs, caressing upwards to her panties. </p>
<p>They’re soaked through. </p>
<p>He might hate her a little for that.</p>
<p>He spins her around, pushes her against the wall, kisses her while pinching her nipple and stroking her clitoris through the fabric of her panties. She pants, spreads her legs wider and winds her arms around his neck. He speeds up his movement outside her panties as her breathing gets shorter and she presses her pussy against his fingers. It doesn’t take long before she’s screaming ‘Oh, God!’ repeatedly, jack-knifing and bucking in his grip. He sticks his hand inside her soaked panties, past her swollen clitoris, and slides a finger inside of her. She’s pulsating, wet, hot, and inviting. </p>
<p>He goes down on his knees in front of her and pulls down her panties. He takes off her high heels when he lifts her legs to make her step out of the panties. He throws the panties onto the radiator then hikes her skirt up and buries his nose in the small patch of hair on her Venus mound. She smells <i>delicious</i>. He grabs her hips and licks her clitoris to test her sensitivity. She moans and slides further down the wall to give him better access. </p>
<p>He licks and sucks greedily, flames fanned by her moans and the increasing flow of pussy juice. Her legs start to shake from the strain of the position so he gets on his feet, lifts her up, and carries her to the couch, throws her down, tugs the skirt off, and greedily dives back in. When she winds her fingers through his hair and pulls, he stops to look up. “You don’t want me t―“</p>
<p>“<i>Don’t stop! Oh God, don’t stop!</i>”</p>
<p>He sniggers and keeps licking, putting two fingers inside of her as he does. The hair pulling only works to turn him on. His jaw is aching, his tongue is cramping, but it’s fucking worth it when she starts spasming around his fingers, cries out, and throws her head back and forth. He’s got pussy juice all over his chin when he sits up. He pulls his wet fingers out of her and dries them off on her neck, just below the ears, like perfume. At the same time, he drags his other hand from his chin and upward on his face, not to dry off as much as to rub her scent all over.</p>
<p>“You taste and smell fucking fantastic, darling,” he tells her. She laughs breathlessly. He crawls over her for a kiss. Thankfully she’s not one of those chicks who’re grossed out by their own juices, and she kisses enthusiastically while pulling his shirts over his head. He unbuttons her blouse and lifts her up on his lap to get it off her while unclasping her bra with one hand. “Fucking gorgeous,” he announces then kisses his way down to suck a nipple into his mouth. She’s not a big woman. Curvy, yes, but still petite. He likes how it makes him feel big, strong, and imposing. </p>
<p>Her hands caress his back and shoulders, one hand finding its way to his front, to play with the hair on his pecs. “You’re a lot more muscular than I thought. I thought this was just…”</p>
<p>“Fat?” he says with a smirk. “I’ve got some padding, darling, but don’t think there ain’t firm hardware underneath.”</p>
<p>“I can see that,” she says with a giggle. Her hands stray down to open his pants. It’s a huge relief when the zipper no longer digs into his hard dick. He leans back to give her space. She pulls it out and looks down. “Oh my God, it’s huge!”</p>
<p>Stroking his ego again. He smirks. “No need to overdo it, darling.” He isn’t huge. He’s had sex with guys with <i>huge</i> dicks. But he’s got a decent-sized dick and loves her reaction to it.</p>
<p>“I’m serious. I’ve only had sex with Andrew for the last three years and you’re way bigger than him.” She slips down on the floor, pulling at his pants to get them off him. He lifts his hips to help her. Once he’s naked she strokes him a couple of times, then proceeds to give him an enthusiastic blowjob. When he’s nearing climax she suddenly stops and climbs on top of him. “I got to have that huge cock inside of me.”</p>
<p>“Protection?”</p>
<p>“I’m on the pill.”</p>
<p>Fair enough. It’s not what he was getting at, but then she’s sinking down on top of him and all thoughts of caution escape his mind. It’s not like he hasn’t played this version of Russian roulette before. He’s had chlamydia once in his youth, but escaped other STDs. More often than not, he uses a condom, and he gets tested regularly because he may be an idiot that can’t say no once the sex has progressed this far, but he’s not a <i>total</i> moron. Right now Annie’s lowering her tight little pussy onto him and all thoughts of condoms are wiped out.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>What was it we told ourselves that we’d never do? That’s right. Sleep with our employees. Good work keeping that one.</i>
</p>
<p>“Normally, this is where I’d offer you the cab fare home and neglect to ask for your number. But this isn’t normal, since we’re working the morning shift together tomorrow. You want to stay the night? I’ll make you breakfast and we’ll take my car to work,” Nick offers with a content smirk. They’re lying on the couch, Annie flat on her back, Nick on his side, squeezed in by the backrest. He’s trailing his finger in circles around her cute belly button, looking down at her flushed, sated appearance.</p>
<p>“Mmmhm. Yeah, that sounds a lot better than going home.”</p>
<p>“I’m warning you, though. You’re going to get pissed at me once we set foot inside our workplace. This isn’t going to change our relationship.”</p>
<p>She gives him an amused smile and pats his cheek patronizingly. “We’ll see about that.”</p>
<p>He grunts and wonders how big of a muck he’s gotten himself into. He rolls over her and onto the floor, grabs a hold of her, and hoists her over his shoulder with a steady grip on her thighs to keep her in place. She howls in laughter. “Oh my God, Nick!”</p>
<p>“Don’t flail. I’m taking you to bed,” he admonishes and carries her upstairs. This time he opens the noisy gates by the stairs. Her giggles drown the creaking out, and luckily she doesn’t ask about them. In the bedroom, he throws her on the bed. She bounces right back up again, still giggling.</p>
<p>“Oh my God, Nick. You’re so strong.”</p>
<p>He scoffs, inwardly preening. “Pfft. You can’t weigh more than what? 110 pounds? It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>“Suck up. I weight 123 and a half, but okay.” She looks pleased with him guessing the wrong weight. Honestly, he thought she weighed 117. Not that it matters. When it comes to women, you guess their weight, deduct 6 to 13 pounds, then tell them your guess. His ego isn’t the only one in need of a good stroke.</p>
<p>She looks around, once again drawn to the photos on his walls. In this room, they’re real fucking personal, and he’s reminded why he doesn’t like to bring people home. “Hey, that guy was on a pic downstairs too. Oh my God, you’re kissing!” She goes to the picture and reaches out, almost touching it, then turns around to look at him. “You’re into guys too?”</p>
<p>“That question is a bit redundant, don’t you think?” he grouses. </p>
<p>“You could have been faking for the picture’s sake. I’d kiss a girl for a pic, but I’m not into girls.”</p>
<p>He hums. “I don’t discriminate.”</p>
<p>She wanders along the wall, looking at other pictures. “He’s hot. Was he your boyfriend?” When he doesn’t answer she turns her head and looks at him. “Oh. He was the one you were talking about, wasn’t he? The one who used and hurt you?”</p>
<p>“Annie,” he warns.</p>
<p>“I get it. I’m sorry.” She wanders to another set of pictures and makes a noise of delight. “You were a soldier? You’ve never told us that.”</p>
<p>“Another time, another life.”</p>
<p>She gets stuck looking at a picture of him sitting on the cannon of a tank, smoking a cigarette, dangling his legs, wearing sunshades, and grinning at the camera, desert in the background. “You still got the uniform?”</p>
<p>He sniggers. “Got a uniform kink, darling?”</p>
<p>“Maybe?” she answers in a playful, innocent manner that screams ‘YES!’</p>
<p>“I’m not playing dress-up right now, sweetheart. But I could put my dog tags on, if that’s a thing you like?” </p>
<p>She turns around and nods eagerly.</p>
<p>Pussy power.</p>
<p>He may not like her very much, but she’s gorgeous and a dedicated lay. If he gets to stick his dick in it, he’s as easily manipulated as the rest of them. She likes his strength, that he’ll defend her, that he’s got a big dick… She fucks his ego as much as his dick. He ends up taking her standing up, her legs wrapped around his waist, showing off, making her feel light as a doll. Halfway through it hits him that Sam can see them if he looks out. All the lights are turned on in Nick’s bedroom, so all he can see is the reflection of him and Annie in the window, but Sam would see plain as day. He makes a performance of it, making sure they’re always in a position where Sam gets a good view, doing his best to get Annie to come, over and over. She’s an easy one. Some girls are next to impossible to get to orgasm. Annie’s insatiable too. Andrew’s a fucking fool for cheating on her. </p>
<p>When they finally give up and lay down with the intention to sleep, cutting the light, he snuggles up to spoon her, burying his nose in her hair.</p>
<p>“You’re a cuddler?”</p>
<p>“You don’t like it, tell me to fuck off.”</p>
<p>“No. I’m surprised. You’re nothing like I thought you’d be like.”</p>
<p>“Hey. Naked person in my bed? I’m going to take advantage if they let me.”</p>
<p>She giggles. “I like to sleep close. Andrew can’t sleep and snuggle. It gets too hot for him.”</p>
<p>He hums noncommittally.</p>
<p>She’s quiet for a while, long enough for him to start drifting, then, “What am I going to do about Andrew? I mean, he says he loves me. Maybe it was just a one-time thing and he’s fretting, regretting it. And I haven’t officially broken up with him. I’m cheating on him. He doesn’t even know I know.”</p>
<p>“You want the truth, or do you want me to tell you to forgive him?” Nick mumbles sleepily.</p>
<p>“That’s a stupid question, why wouldn’t I want the truth?”</p>
<p>“Because it’s going to hurt like a bitch, darling.” Pussy power. He’s got his dick pressed against her ass and a hand cupping a boob. He’ll tell her anything she wants to hear. </p>
<p>“I want the truth.”</p>
<p>“Andrew brags. I’m warning you, darling, it ain’t pretty.”</p>
<p>“Tell me anyway.”</p>
<p>“Andrew has five or six different girlfriends. He doesn’t keep his own apartment, because you all provide all his needs for him. He rates you on a scale. You’re an 8, and his current favorite because you’re a great fuck. He tells you that he spends the days he doesn’t sleep at your place, visiting his mother. His mom died 8 years ago. I gave him a lift to the funeral. He keeps away those days you do laundry or clean the house, so he doesn’t have to do anything. He doesn’t have a second job. The reason he always has a lot more money than you is because he doesn’t pay rent or do grocery shopping. The only bill he has to pay is his phone bill.” He expects her to call him a liar, but she doesn’t.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” she says quietly.</p>
<p>“Mhm. He’ll probably be pissed if you break up with him, or if he gets to know you’ve fucked someone else. He doesn’t think the same rules apply to women as men. He’s been telling me every fuck up you’ve done at work since forever, and steals credit for good things. He’s riding the wave of success every woman he dates create. It’s a skill set and a lifestyle for him. Empowering him.”</p>
<p>She’s quiet, so he snuggles closer. “This is why I don’t like people. You just can’t tell with anyone.” She remains quiet. “Christ. You’re going to cry, aren’t you? I can’t deal with tears. If you need to cry, I’m gonna go sleep on the couch,” he complains, hugging her tighter against his chest and kissing the back of her head. He fans his fingers out to make the embrace more encompassing―saying one thing with words, another with gestures.</p>
<p>She makes a little noise between a sniffle and a laugh. “How can you be such a jerk and nice guy at the same time? I’m <i>trying</i> not to cry, but it hurts, hearing this. I want to tell you to go fuck yourself, but I’ve had my suspicions before. I just feel so fucking stupid.”</p>
<p>Nick sighs. “It’s not stupidity. He’s good, alright? He’s really good at what he does. He has all the moves down, knowing what to say to make a woman feel less than she is, and like he’s the only one that understands her. The fucker is an expert courtier. The only way you’d been able to see through his bullshit was if you too were an expert manipulator.”</p>
<p>“So what am I going to <i>do</i>? How will I be able to work with him? I’m so afraid I’ll get fired if I ask to change shifts. I’m probably hanging loose as it is.”</p>
<p>“Do you <i>want</i> to change your shifts?”</p>
<p>“No. But I don’t want to work with him.”</p>
<p>“How do you feel about working alone?”</p>
<p>Yet again - pussy power. He’s never trusted anyone to work full shifts alone.</p>
<p>“I don’t mind, as long as it isn’t the boring hours you work, you know? It’s nice when there’s a lot of customers.”</p>
<p>“Then don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Mr. Williams for you.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it.”</p>
<p>She’s quiet for a while, then suddenly flips over to kiss him. Her hand trails down to grab his dick, stroking it. It’s far better than having a crying girl in his arms. It doesn’t take him long to be good for another go.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Annie and Sam both ask questions. Sam's questions reveal exactly how much of a freak he is and Nick's more intrigued than ever. He really shouldn't be.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <h3>Questions</h3>
</div>He makes breakfast while she’s in the shower. He fills the thermos with coffee, puts it and two sandwiches in a bag, and goes outside. He messages Sam who opens the window and lets the rope down. Sam should have food and snacks left for another two days, but it doesn’t stop Nick from caring for ‘his’ boy’s needs. Sam gives him a pissy look, pulls the breakfast in, and closes the window.<p>Nick wonders if he’s jealous. He hopes so.</p>
<p>When Nick comes inside, Annie’s pouring herself coffee. He sneaks up behind her, wraps his arms around her tiny waist, and kisses her temple. “I see you found the stuff I laid out for you,” he states, lets go of her, takes a cup from a cabinet, and puts it beside hers, in an unspoken request for her to fill it. She does.</p>
<p>“Yeah. How the hell do you have clothes that fit me?”</p>
<p>“A one-night stand forgot her bag when she left. She had her daywear in it.” He takes the coffee and goes to sit down, snagging a section of the newspaper at random, and grabbing one of the sandwiches from the plate.</p>
<p>She comes to sit opposite him, takes a sandwich, and grabs another part of the paper. She stares at him for a while, until he looks up and gives her an annoyed ‘What?’ look. Then she looks down and starts reading.</p>
<p>Since she’s quiet, it’s almost pleasant.</p>
<p>“Your orchids are amazing.”</p>
<p>He looks up and finds her staring at a couple of orchids by his window. “Mh.”</p>
<p>“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s a Rothschild’s slipper orchid, a sky blue sun orchid, and a Shenzhen Nongke orchid?”</p>
<p>“It is.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God. I’ve never seen them in reality. How the hell did you afford them?”</p>
<p>He gives her an annoyed look and goes back to reading.</p>
<p>“No, I didn’t mean that way. Sorry. I just… they’re part of the rarest orchids in the world and I’ve… They’re amazing.”</p>
<p>“I like the rare ones. My personal favorite is the Gloriosa in my living room.”</p>
<p>“You’ve got a flame lily?” Annie promptly gets up and goes to the living room. He listens to her walk around and inspects his flowers like she inspected the photos yesterday. He smirks at the silent ‘Oh my God’ she mutters to herself. It goes into her plus side, that she’s suitably impressed. Not many know what they’re looking at, when they’re looking at his private collection. He wonders if she can name the ones he’s got in his yard too?</p>
<p>In the car on the way to work she talks. For once her incessant chatter is of interest to him. She loves flowers and she applied for this job because it had a nursery too, not only sold flowers. She couldn’t afford a formal education on the subject, but she’s been reading up on everything she can, during the nights Andrew wasn’t at her place. It seems Andrew’s been a major distraction for her. Her chatter continues while they create the arrangements she sold yesterday. This is a good thing about being incognito. She thinks he’s just an employee who’s got seniority on her only because he’s worked here longer. He’s thinking that maybe he should give her a chance to show what she can do, in the nursery too.</p>
<p>He leaves on a delivery run while she mans the store. </p>
<p>He texts Sam.</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> Enjoy the live show yesterday?</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Sam:</b> Are you two dating? She works with you. Are you in love with her?</tt>
</p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> No. Yes she does. No. Are you jealous, darling? Would you rather be the one gagging on my cock? Want to play rather than watch?</tt>
</p>
<p>Not that Annie had gagged herself, but he’d like Sam to do it.</p>
<p><tt><b>Sam:</b> Fuck you.</tt> Then, barely a minute after, <tt>What are you doing after work? I’m bored.</tt></p>
<p>
  <tt><b>Nick:</b> I’ll be home at 1:30. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go somewhere.</tt>
</p>
<p>Back at work he leaves Annie to take care of the nursery, locks himself into the office, and switches the schedule around. He moves Andrew to all the shitty shifts with Cynthia, switches so that Annie’s shifts overlap with his and Camilla’s, so that Annie will get some social interaction. </p>
<p>Pussy power. That’s what it is.</p>
<p>He sends the new schedule to all his employees by email and goes back into the store.</p>
<p>He hears a happy squee, and Annie comes running. “Nick! Did you talk to Mr.Williams?”</p>
<p>“I did.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God! You’re an angel!” She throws herself at him, kissing him and hugging him hard. He almost backs off in surprise, but she’s kissing him, so he doesn’t. Ever the opportunist.</p><hr/>
<p>Sam is nothing but trouble.</p>
<p>He’s picked up Sam’s new driver’s license, but hasn’t given it to the boy yet.</p>
<p>He watches Sam climb down the rope from his window with fierce satisfaction. Sam lands on his feet and turns to him. He gives the boy a once-over. “You look like you could use a shower. Want to take one first or have another driver’s lesson.”</p>
<p>“Lesson.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.” One option is key to the freedom Sam wants, the other is pure comfort. Nick would have chosen the lesson too.</p>
<p>In the car Sam turns to him, reaches out, and pulls the chain around his neck, tugging it out from under his shirt. He leans in to study it. “You’re a soldier.”</p>
<p>“Was.”</p>
<p>“You ever killed someone?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“What’s it like?”</p>
<p>“Try it, and you’ll find out.”</p>
<p>Sam lets go, catty green eyes and bubblegum lips narrowing, leaving the dog tags hanging outside Nick’s shirt. “Have you got PTSD?”</p>
<p>Nick snorts in amusement and starts the car. He’ll be taking it to a big abandoned parking lot where Sam can make all the mistakes he wants. “That’s a very private question, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“What? And asking if you’ve killed someone isn’t?”</p>
<p>“I was a soldier. That’s what soldiers do. Goes without saying.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay. What kind of soldier were you?”</p>
<p>“Marine.”</p>
<p>“Rank?”</p>
<p>“First sergeant.”</p>
<p>“Dad was a marine too. Why did you join?”</p>
<p>“To piss off my dad.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been thinking of joining the forces.”</p>
<p>“Don’t.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“If you do, how are we going to run away together?” Nick jokes and hates himself for liking the idea.</p>
<p>Sam smirks and looks out the window. “You’ve got gum? I haven’t been able to brush my teeth.”</p>
<p>“In the glove compartment.”</p>
<p>Sam opens it and rummages around until he finds it. He pops a piece in his mouth, making the car smell minty. “What’s it like to have sex with a woman?”</p>
<p>Nick sniggers. “Try it, and you’ll find out.”</p>
<p>“Have you ever done drugs?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“What kind of drugs?”</p>
<p>“A bit of everything.”</p>
<p>“What’s it like?”</p>
<p>“You know what I’m going to answer to that question, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Sam blows a bubble and scrutinizes him. “I’d try, if I knew how to get some. Could you help me?”</p>
<p>
  <i>Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.</i>
</p>
<p>“What do you want to try?”</p>
<p>“I dunno. Everything but heroin.”</p>
<p>“How are you expecting to pay for it? You don’t have much money, do you?”</p>
<p>“I’m expecting <i>you</i> to pay for it.”</p>
<p>Nick laughs. Of course, he’s going to pay for it. Sam’s got the male version of pussy power going on. “Maybe I want something in return.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I’ll give it to you.”</p>
<p>Nick hums. “We’ll see about that, jailbait.”</p>
<p>“I’ve heard that if you put coke on your dick sex will last longer and be better.”</p>
<p>“No. First off, the shit they mix with the coke can be real fucking corrosive, so you don’t want to put it on your dick. Second off, your dick goes numb, making it hard, if not impossible to come. If you put it on before you’re hard, getting it up is ten times harder because it’s numb. Those who say it’s better, have probably snorted a line or five before they get started. Don’t fucking do it, Sam.”</p>
<p>“You’ve tried?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Have you tried edgeplay?”</p>
<p>Nick presses his lips together and watches the road.</p>
<p>“Like, strangling, knife play, gunplay, stuff like that?” Sam presses.</p>
<p>“You into that shit?” Nick counters. Truth is, Nick <i>is</i> into it. He has a thing for gunplay, first and foremost. Not that life has offered him many chances for it. He’s into a lot of <i>really</i> fucked up shit. Gunplay is something he’s been into since he first tried it, way back in his teens. The other stuff came gradually, and fucking exploded in him while he was fighting overseas. </p>
<p>“I dunno.”</p>
<p>“So why ask me about it?”</p>
<p>“I dunno.”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Now shut up, or we’re turning right back home and you can rot in your room for all I care.”</p>
<p>Sam turns his head away and mopes.</p>
<p>Apart from the minty bubblegum, Nick can smell him. A couple of days without a shower, locked in his room. Nick’s not disgusted by unwashed bodies even under the worst conditions―his military days saw to that. But Sam’s sweat, his scent, might be the headiest scent Nick’s smelt for a decade. It’s getting to his head. It’s a good thing they aren’t animals, that he has self-control. Granted, it’s deteriorated with every moment he spends with the boy. His mind has switched from ‘Don’t fuck the boy’ to ‘How can I fuck him and get away with it?’ He needs to do to Sam, what Andrew does to chicks - make Sam think he needs him.</p><hr/>
<p>Sam’s naked in his home.</p>
<p>Sam’s fucking naked in his home.</p>
<p>
  <i>Stop thinking about it!</i>
</p>
<p>The little shit hadn’t even closed the door to the bathroom completely when he got into the shower. Which means that he’s naked, wet, and accessible.</p>
<p>Nick reminds himself that he’s not an animal. He has control. </p>
<p>He downs a shot of whiskey and considers going into that bathroom and take what he wants. He could probably scare the boy to keep his mouth shut whatever happens. But no. He’s not an animal. </p>
<p>It’s going to happen. He’ll see to that. But when it does, Sam’s going to be begging for more, not for mercy. </p>
<p>He stays put. </p>
<p>The day he’s got those bubblegum lips on him, he doesn’t want to fear a bite in inconvenient places.</p><hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Kinks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick's workdays turn surprisingly pleasant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Kinks</h3>
<p>Nick had thought (hoped) that nothing would change between Annie and him, despite spending a night together. He’s been wrong. When Annie comes to work she gives him a dazzling smile and a ‘Hi, Nick!’ that is way too sweet. She’s got a short skirt that she hikes up just below her ass when they’re in the nursery together. When she bends over he can see <i>everything</i> and she isn’t wearing any God damned panties. “Fuck. You just enjoy being a cockteasing cunt, or am I going to be allowed a taste of that?”</p>
<p>She turns her head, smiles, wiggles her ass, and winks at him.</p>
<p>He does a quick tally of how much work needs to be done and how much time they have, then gets up and briskly walks up to her. He grabs her wrists and holds onto them tightly, gets down on his knees behind her, and starts to lick like a hungry dog. She moans.</p>
<p>“Get down on all fours and stick your ass up for me,” he tells her and lets go of her wrists. She does, eagerly, and he goes back to licking. He drags his tongue upward to her asshole and starts licking there. She’s got such a pretty asshole, meticulously shaved, darker, just like her labia, to contrast with her golden-hued skin.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?”</p>
<p>He stops. “What? You don’t like getting rimmed?”</p>
<p>“I’ve never been licked there before. I’m not gonna let you fuck my ass.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it, darling. We don’t have lube. Without it, it would hurt both of us, you in particular. We don’t have the time for the prepping and stretching needed to make it good for you. And I don’t have a condom handy. I’d never fuck a woman in the ass without a condom.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“Because most likely I’m gonna stick my dick in the pussy afterward, and there are bacterias in there that have no business going into a pussy. It might cause infection, and then what’s the use? Can I continue, or is this a no-go zone altogether?”</p>
<p>“Um, okay. Go ahead.”</p>
<p>He goes back to rimming her, feeling her relax. She seems to like it by the noises she’s making. He sticks a finger into her pussy and it’s deliciously wet.</p>
<p>He takes her like a dog, one hand going around to massage her clit while he fucks her. She contracts so hard when she comes that he can’t hold back his own orgasm. He’s just pulled out and tucked himself in when they hear the bell announce a customer. He quickly fixes her hair for her and sends her to take care of it, thinking that her sated eyes, winded breath, and rosy cheeks are a dead giveaway.</p>
<p>He hears her excusing herself to the customer, saying she was carrying heavy bags of soil. By the tone on the customers in face of her happy chirping, they’re buying it. He goes to the office, planning to wash off. He gives the customer a polite nod as he goes behind the counter, and throws a look at Annie’s backside to make sure her skirt’s pulled down as it should. He spots his own come running down her leg. Just like that, he’s turned on again. Annie’s keeping a straight face, leaking all over. Fuck, but that’s hot. It’s weird. He doesn’t like kids, never wants to become a dad, but the thought of pumping a woman full of come, possibly impregnating her, is one of the hottest things he knows. Hell, that goes for guys too, pretending that he’s impregnating them. He waits behind the door to the staff room, pulling his dick out and stroking it to full hardness until he hears the customer leave. Then he goes back into the store, traps Annie against the counter, and pushes in without as much as a hello.</p>
<p>Annie’s such a good girl, spreading her legs and letting herself be mounted, uttering a litany of ‘Oh my God!’, ‘Yes, baby, yes!’, ‘Fuck me with that big dick of yours’, ‘Oh my God, you’re so big!’ She’s as uncaring as he is as to whether they’re seen through the window or not. When he comes and steps away from her she turns around, sinks to her knees, and licks him clean, milking the last drops of come out of him.</p>
<p>“Fuck, darling, you’re something else.”</p>
<p>She beams up at him with a proud smile. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“No, no. Thank <i>you</i>.”</p>
<p>The real kicker is, that despite this distraction, Annie works harder than she usually does. Maybe it’s because Nick isn’t prone to small talk? He’s not sure. He compliments her randomly when he sees her doing things he approves of. ‘Great work’, ‘well done’, ‘You’ve got a knack for that’, ‘You’re damned effective when you want to. Keep that up and I’ll see to it that you get a raise’. He also tells her to go fuck herself when she tries to bombard him with incessant chatter about topics he’s got no interest in. He frequently finds himself dragged into discussions about plants, though. He may have told Sam that growing something isn’t rocket science―by all means, it isn’t―but some species are harder than others, and Annie’s very interested in how to care for those, or make hybrids and so on.</p>
<p>Any time they work together, they fuck. Not just once per shift in the storeroom like she and Andrew used to, but frequently, <i>everywhere</i>.</p>
<p>They argue, obviously, because she’s an annoying attention-craving cunt. But that only serves to set them up for reconciliatory sex. When Annie works alone, she doesn’t dally. She works as hard and dedicatedly as he does, to pass time. He doesn’t expect or require that from his employees. He requires them to sell. Without Andrew in the picture, Annie’s turning out to be his best employee.</p>
<p>“You’ve obviously had anal sex, right?” she asks one day.</p>
<p>“Obviously,” he agrees. They’re in the breakroom, having a cup of coffee during downtime.</p>
<p>“Have you… have you had it both ways, since you’re into guys, I mean?”</p>
<p>“Mmh. I have. Long time ago. Only ever let one guy fuck me. Otherwise, I’m a top.”</p>
<p>“The guy in the pictures?”</p>
<p>He sighs and nods. “Even that was a rarity. I like being on top. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. It’s more a mental thing than having to stick my dick in. Because taking a dick in your ass can be real fucking good, you know?”</p>
<p>“Andrew always tried to stick his dick in there. He’d try to slip it in when he was taking me from behind like I wouldn’t notice. But it hurts. I don’t know how many times I told him no, but he kept nagging.”</p>
<p>Nick sips his coffee disinterestedly. “I thought we’ve already ascertained that he’s an asshole? That’s no way to go about it. He tried to stick his fingers in too?” </p>
<p>“No. No, he didn’t want to touch…in there.”</p>
<p>“Whelp. No wonder it hurt.”</p>
<p>“So, how do you do it? I mean, you’ve licked me there several times and that feels great. But you’ve never tried to, you know, do more.”</p>
<p>“You said you weren’t into it. Why bother pushing for something only one of us is going to enjoy?”</p>
<p>“Yeah… but, how do you have anal, so it feels good? And doesn’t the dick get all pooey?”</p>
<p>It strikes Nick, that she might be curious about trying, and that’s why she’s asking. He’d be shooting himself in the foot, by not giving her a full rundown. “Alright. There are some downsides to anal. Afterward, you feel like you need to take a shit, but you can’t. It just feels like that. Especially if you’re not used to it or not doing it frequently. Sometimes there’s a little poo on the tip of the dick. Rarely, but it happens. Personally, it doesn’t bother me. I’m not an easy guy to squick. It can be painful if you go in too fast. You’ll rip unless you’re stretched beforehand. Aside from these things, anal is good. You need lots of lube. You prep by using fingers, one at first, then when you’re relaxed, add another one, and so on. There are also buttplugs you can buy in sets of 3 in different sizes, called anal trainers. Or buttplugs you pump up to expand. I think it’s a good idea to get my partner to climax before I start prepping since it makes them much more relaxed in the whole body. Once you’re stretched open enough, the guy should enter slowly, giving you time to adjust, and don’t start slamming you as soon as he’s fully sheathed. And lots of lube. I can’t stress that enough.”</p>
<p>Annie looks both interested and thoughtful. “How does it feel for a guy? What’s the difference between being inside a pussy and the ass?”</p>
<p>“It’s like the difference between being gripped by a tight fist - the pussy - and being gripped by just one ring of fingers.… The ass is super tight by the entrance, then more roomy and soft inside. The pussy’s one giant muscle so it’s tight all the way in.”</p>
<p>“Then what makes the ass better?”</p>
<p>“Who says it’s better? A pussy feels a lot better. The ass… I don’t know, I think it’s a mental thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great too. But anal sex with a woman is often a no-go, so it’s that much hotter when you get to do it.”</p>
<p>“You never tell me I’m tight…”</p>
<p>“All pussies are tight. I like mine wet and ready to receive me. If a girl feels too tight, she is most likely not turned on enough. You want me to tell you you’re tight, sure, I can do that. But when a girl feels too tight or not wet enough, I end up wondering what I’m doing wrong. Unless she’s a whore, it needs to be addressed. Some girls have a problem getting wet that has nothing to do with me.”</p>
<p>“What? You’ve been with whores?” Annie scrunches her nose up in disgust.</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure. Why not? It’s convenient. Sometimes you don’t want to waste time courting. Fuck, when I’m in a bad mood after work I’ll go down to the working girls, let them give me a BJ to unwind, then be on my merry way five minutes later. Tell me what girl would put up with that? Imagine if I came in here, pissed off, snapped my fingers, and pointed at my dick, without as much as a hello. Would you oblige? I don’t think so. And sometimes I want a good long marathon fuck without wasting time courting a chick, not knowing if she’ll let me fuck her in the end. Working girls provide a service and deserve respect for it.”</p>
<p>“But, like, STDs and stuff?”</p>
<p>“Darling, I’m no safer sticking it in you than I am sticking it in them. Less safe, since we’re barebacking. You can have sex only once in your life and still contract a disease. It’s always a gamble. A good whore knows to demand the use of a condom and has them handy. When I’m drunk and horny I can get swept up in the moment, like I was with you. It’s all good.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know… I find whores disgusting.”</p>
<p>“Of course you do. You’re supposed to, aren’t you? How the hell would us men keep power if women were raised to respect other women who own their sexuality? The worst slut shamers of them all, are other women.”</p>
<p>Annie’s quiet for a while, sipping her coffee. Suddenly she giggles and shakes her head. “I used to think that was the only way you could get laid. Buying whores I mean. I imagined them being grossed out when you came to them, only fucking you because they had to.”</p>
<p>“They don’t have to. You get that, right? They’ve got the same rights as anyone else to say no, or walk away if the customer breaks the agreement. A lot of guys are assholes and won’t respect that. But they can still say no and do a refund, in theory. Their bodies aren’t public property just because they sell the use of it. Just because you pay for a cab ride doesn’t give you the right to rough up the driver and slash the tires. The good thing about a working girl is that you don’t have to tiptoe around what you want. You tell them up straight what you want, they give you a yes or no, and a price. As long as you keep yourself within the boundaries they’ve set, they won’t press charges.”</p>
<p>“Press charges?”</p>
<p>Nick takes a deep breath through his nose and presses his lips together. He holds his breath for a while then lets it out slowly, he pushes his chair out from the table. He pats his thighs. “Come here. Let’s talk kink negotiation.” Annie stands up, walks around the table, and sits down in his lap. She puts her arm around his neck and he winds his arms around her waist. “I’ve got a high libido and fucking love sex. That should be obvious by now, right?” </p>
<p>She giggles and nods, narrowing her eyes with an amused glint in them. “Mhm. I’ve noticed.”</p>
<p>“‘Course you have, darling. A sultry look or a wiggle of that ass and I’m ready to go. I don’t require any emotional connection whatsoever to want to fuck someone. I’ve told you I don’t discriminate. That spans over all categories. Age, race, gender, weight, whatever. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it more when I get to fuck somebody as beautiful as you. I’ll tell you the truth, though, and that’s that I’d rather fuck somebody butt ugly who’s enthusiastic about it, than somebody beautiful and repressed. Being with somebody like you, who’s both gorgeous and uninhibited, is hitting a jackpot.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>He smirks and combs her hair with his fingers. “I’m the one who should be grateful. But what I want to talk about, are kinks. I love sex all over the spectrum. Sometimes I want sweet love-making, sometimes I just want it to unwind, sometimes I want the kind of uninhibited fucking we do. I’ll adapt to my partner. If mutual masturbation is your thing, I’m your man. If you’ve got a lot of bad experiences and can trigger at small things, tell me beforehand and I’m still your man. I can take my time or rip your panties off and shove it in, depending on what you want. But. I’ve got a set of very dark turn-ons. Stuff that requires a lot of trust from my partner, and only belongs in established relationships or well pre-negotiated, with safewords and honesty. Stuff that if I tell the wrong person they’ll call the police on me, that might scare away a casual lover that doesn’t trust me. They don’t get it. The main turn on is being <i>allowed</i>. Consent is a primary factor, no matter how fucked up it sounds.” Nobody can accuse him of not knowing how to bullshit. Consent is the primary factor not to get sent to jail for it. Sure, there’s something exceedingly arousing about being allowed to do what he does. But he sure as hell isn’t going to mention that seeing his partner have second thoughts and start to get scared, is a million times more arousing.</p>
<p>“Like BDSM?”</p>
<p>Nick hums. “Not quite, but in the vicinity. BDSM is more about control and obedience. I like things more primal, more violent, no ‘Yessirs’. But you’ve got to know, I’d never do any of those things to somebody who isn’t a willing participant. Take a very simple and common example.” He puts his hand around her throat, a soft hold that doesn’t hamper air or blood flow. “You might be okay with this. Maybe not. But you might find it within the borders of what you are willing to endure. But if I squeeze harder you can’t breathe or your brain won’t get enough blood. You’d run the risk of passing out or even die. For you to let me do it, you need to trust me to know what I’m doing, and trust that I’d let go if you tapped my shoulder or arm.” He lets go and trails his hand down to cup her breast, caressing the nipple with his thumb.</p>
<p>“You’re into that?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely. Amongst other things. But I don’t think it’s up your alley, now is it?”</p>
<p>“No. Nu-uh.” She shakes her head. “I don’t get how people could get turned on by being choked.”</p>
<p>His lips quirk upward in a smirk. He puts his hand around her throat again and hums. “No?” He leans in and puts his lips to her ear, speaking low. “What if I told you, that during my time as a soldier, I was involved in hand-to-hand combat, and ended a man’s life this way. How does that make you feel?” He can feel her pulse quicken under his fingers. He sniggers and lets go of her throat, moving his hand to under her skirt, caressing her Venus’ mound and clitoris gently, happy to note that she spreads her legs for better access. He leans back so he can look at her face. “For some people, it’s a turn-on to know what a fucking dangerous monster I can be, yet be secure that I’d never hurt them, not really. And when I’m with the right kind of wrong partner, what constitutes as ‘not hurting them’ flies way over the border of what most people consider the phrase to entail. We’re talking things that belong in a dojo, boxing ring, or MMA cage, usually not the bedroom.”</p>
<p>“You like to hurt your partners?”</p>
<p>Nick lowers his eyelids, bites his lower lip, and nods lazily.</p>
<p>“Was that why it ended with that guy? He called the police on you or something? You said you were betrayed.”</p>
<p>Nick utters a bemused chuckle and lets his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. “No, darling. He loved the monster more than the man. He left me because his father threatened to disown him if he didn’t. And, darling, I really don’t want to talk about him.” He uprights his neck to look at her. “But don’t for a minute think that I’d lay a hand on you. That’s not how my mind works. Or my dick for that matter. However, if you have some fantasy or anything you want to try, that you’re ashamed to talk about, I’m the least judgemental guy you can find. If you discover halfway through that it wasn’t for you, we’ll stop and do something else. I won’t whine about it.”</p>
<p>“Do you… Would you come to my place after I get off from work? Wearing your uniform?”</p>
<p>“The formal attire or the combat gear?”</p>
<p>“Combat.”</p>
<p>“Sure. I can do that.”</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Fool in Lust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick's letting himself be distracted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>A Fool In Lust</h3>
<p>He drives Sam to basketball practice, almost leaning over to give him a goodbye peck. It’s fucked up. The boy is like a fucking drug. Sam gives him a sour glare and gets out of the car. To this date, Sam has never said thank you for anything Nick’s done for him. </p>
<p>He stops by a fancy store on his way home. He remembers Annie moping over not being able to afford a pair of shoes she’d seen in a magazine. She hadn’t complained to him, God no. He’d have told her to go fuck herself if she’d try to bemoan not being able to afford the latest brand shit being peddled. No, she’d been on the phone with her mother, stroking the glossy page of a Vogue or Elle or whatever the magazines she bought were called, wearing that forlorn expression of someone who’s accepted that something they want is out of reach. So he stops by the store where they sell them and pays the 1000-something bucks, along with a matching 500-something bag, without thinking much of it. He asks to get the things gift-wrapped, then goes home to shower and change.</p>
<p>When he arrives at Annie’s apartment, Annie’s dressed up in a spiffy red dress, and the apartment smells deliciously of home-cooked food. “Oh my <i>God</i>, Nick! You look so hot!”</p>
<p>He preens. The way she’s looking at him matches the tone of her voice. “I know,” he answers cockily and holds out the bag to her. “Here. Brought you something.”</p>
<p>“A gift?”</p>
<p>He snorts in amusement. “Mhm. Go ahead, open it. Is it home-cooked I’m smelling, or take away?”</p>
<p>“Home-cooked. Mom’s recipe. I figured you’d be hungry.” She carefully begins to unwrap the first gift. He figures she’s one of those people who saves the wrapping, doing as little damage to it as possible.</p>
<p>“Darling, that’s music to my ears. I can’t cook worth a shit. I’ve got like ten things I know how to do fairly well, and that’s that. Usually, I buy frozen dinners.”</p>
<p>She giggles. “In that case, I think you’re going to love this. It’s an American remake of a Javanese dish. I… <i>OH MY GOD!</i>” Annie squeals in pure delight at throws herself at him, clinging to his neck and kissing him all over the face. “Oh my God, Nick! How did you know? You know how expensive these are? Oh my God! You shouldn’t have! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”</p>
<p>Nick laughs. “Christ, woman. It’s just a pair of shoes.”</p>
<p>“It’s not just shoes, Nick. It’s Christian Louboutin!”</p>
<p>“Mmh. Try them on. We need to see if I got your size right or if we have to go back and trade them.”</p>
<p>She drops back on the floor, kicks the heels she was wearing off, and goes to put the new ones on. “It’s a perfect fit! How did you know, Nick? Seriously.” She stands in front of the mirror, admiring herself.</p>
<p>“Darling, I’ve sucked on those dainty little toes of yours. Guessing your size wasn’t that hard.”</p>
<p>“But how did you know I wanted these? I’ve never told you that.”</p>
<p>“I saw you stroking a picture of them in a magazine.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God, Nick. How do you even notice these things?”</p>
<p>Nick smirks in self-satisfaction. “I’ve got eyes and I use them. Simple. Now open the other one.”</p>
<p>She does. When she takes up the bag she presses her hand over her mouth and her eyes get all glossy.</p>
<p>“You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because if you’re gonna start bawling, I’m out of here,” he grouses.</p>
<p>She looks at him with those big brown eyes of hers and emits a laugh that’s almost a sob. “You’re the kindest asshole I’ve ever met.”</p>
<p>Nick scoffs. “Hey, don’t make a big thing out of it, okay? Girls want their shoes and bags to match, don’t they?”</p>
<p>She giggles behind her hand, nodding, glossy eyes conveying overwhelming emotions. It’s like she’s never received an expensive gift before. It’s making him pleased and uncomfortable all at once.</p>
<p>During dinner, she keeps looking at him with an alarmingly warm smile, eyes shooting hearts. He’d protest, but the food is fucking fantastic, and there’s great sex up ahead.</p>
<p>Really great sex, it turns out. Under the dress, she’s got sexy underwear and she’s even more dedicated than usual. He already knows she likes to be manhandled, so when she’s blowing him he lifts her up, turns her over, and buries his face in her pussy, making her blow him upside down. It drives her crazy. She’s as into being made to feel like a light doll as he’s into feeling strong. She can put her legs behind her head, so he lifts her up when she’s got her back turned to him, by putting his arms under her thighs and locking his hands behind her neck. He fucks her like that, holding her up. It’s straining as fuck on the arms, legs, and abs, but he’s showing off, and she loves it.</p>
<p>She loves the combat uniform and for their first go, she makes him keep it on. It’s the only one he should have returned, but didn’t. The regular workwear and the formal wear he’d paid for, and was allowed to keep. Combat gear has special rules. </p>
<p>He can’t be made to care about rules. Right now it’s paying off.</p>
<p>When he fucks her in bed, she takes his hand and pressed it against her throat with unspoken permission. He knows enough not to overstep. But he thinks that if she keeps pushing her hard limits for him, she’s got a lot of gifts coming her way.</p>
<p>He’s worn out afterward. Stupidly, when she asks him to stay the night, he does, falling asleep with her tucked in against his chest.</p>
<p>“No, mom. I’ve been completely wrong about him…. Uh-huh. No. I mean, he’s still an asshole, if you only listen to what he says, but if you look at what he does, he’s really sweet. ….I know what I’ve said about him before, mom. I’m telling you, I got him all wrong…. You know what? You should meet him and see for yourself….shit. I think he’s waking up. Gotta go. Love you, mom. Bye.”</p>
<p>Nick sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He can smell coffee, which nearly makes up for not waking up at home. Annie comes into the bedroom, wearing his T-shirt and smiling brightly. “Good morning, Sunshine.”</p>
<p>“What time is it?”</p>
<p>“6 o’clock. Did I wake you up?”</p>
<p>He grunts a possible affirmative.</p>
<p>Her smile turns apologetic. She crawls onto the bed and straddles him, puts her arms around his neck, gives him a kiss. “Sorry, baby. Mom called. She wanted to know if you liked the food. I called her yesterday to ask for the recipe. It was the first time I made it.”</p>
<p>He bends his head and rests his forehead between her breasts, circling her slim waist with his arms. “I might hate your mom. Who the hell calls this early? Has she no manners? We don’t have to be at work for another three hours,” he complains.</p>
<p>She chuckles. “Yes, but she was worried. I’ve kinda talked a lot of shit about you before when we didn’t get along. When I told her I was making you dinner it took her by surprise. She thinks you’re dangerous and mean.”</p>
<p>His smirk is hidden from her, but his dry amusement carries through his voice. “Hasn’t she heard that you shouldn’t wake a sleeping dragon?”</p>
<p>“But I <i>like</i> your dragon,” she says teasingly and grinds herself against his crotch.</p>
<p>He grins and looks up. “Dragon? Is that what we’re calling it now?”</p>
<p>“Baby, it’s so big. I can’t even fit all of it in my mouth.”</p>
<p>He laughs silently, shoulders shaking. “Practise, darling. It’s all it takes. Maybe we should get another well-endowed guy to play with us and I’ll show you how it’s done.”</p>
<p>
  <i>Like Sam.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Fuck. Stop thinking about that fucking teenager! He’s nothing but trouble. Wait until he’s turned 18 before you go after him.</i>
</p>
<p>“Oh my God.” She giggles and covers her mouth with her hand. “I know you’re into guys, but… you actually suck dick?”</p>
<p>“As happily as I eat a pussy out. This surprises you?”</p>
<p>“Yes, actually. You’re so… so… um. I mean, it’s a lot easier to imagine another guy blowing you, than imagine you doing it to a guy. You’re so… I don’t know. Primal? Bossy? Alpha?”</p>
<p>Stroking his ego again. She’s got him by the balls with talk like this.</p>
<p>“And you think it’s demeaning to suck a dick?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Whelp. There you have it. Though I confess, I prefer being on the receiving end of a BJ.” A thought strikes him. “Wait. Could you fit Andrew’s dick in your mouth?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. No problem.”</p>
<p>He chuckles nastily and falls back to lie on his back, feeling more than a little malicious pleasure. “He must have a very small dick then.”</p>
<p>“Not <i>that</i> small.”</p>
<p>“Darling, if you could fit all of it in that luscious mouth of yours, it’s small. I ain’t got a problem with the guy. He keeps me posted on how the others do their job. That’s how we found out Maryanne was skimming. The girl you replaced? Anyway, it still makes me feel good to know that his girlfriend is worshipping my dick for its size, while he’s fretting, wondering why he can’t get a hold of you.”</p>
<p>“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”</p>
<p>“Ah. No. But he doesn’t get that. You never told him you saw him, and he’s used to being able to sweet talk his way out of everything. But that relies on him actually being able to get a hold of the woman he’s planning to dupe. He still thinks of you as his girlfriend, and that’s all that matters for me to feel smug about fucking you.”</p>
<p>“You’ve talked to him?”</p>
<p>“Mhm. He’s been calling, asking if I’ve seen you. Last time we traded shifts he held me up for almost half an hour, ranting about how whores like you should know their place. His words, not mine.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure he said that?”</p>
<p>Nick chuckles and sits up, wrapping his arms around her. He turns serious, locking his gaze with hers. “Darling, I know it hurts. But if you want to know what a misogynistic, sexist asshole he really is, I’ll give you proof. Tomorrow when I change shifts with him, I’ll stay behind for a chat, record it, and send you the audio. Only if you want to, because it’s going to hurt to hear it.”</p>
<p>Her face turns hard. “Do it.”</p>
<p>He buries his face in her neck, nuzzling her. “Anything you want, darling. Anything.”</p>
<p>It’s one of those dangerous things to say. The ones that gets him into trouble. It’d be so much easier if he wasn’t fool enough to follow up on it. But he is. A fool. And this is just about good sex. When he falls in love, that’s when things get really bad. There’s nothing he won’t do. <i>Nothing</i>.</p>
<p>She pushes him away far enough to access his face and kisses him fiercely. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it.”</p>
<p>She pushes him down and pulls the blanket off him, only to suck his dick into her mouth, not wasting any time on niceties. It works for him.</p>
<p>Pussy power. And he’s a fool.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Andrew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick keeps his promise and proves to Annie that Andrew's cheating.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't worry, Sam's coming back the next chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Andrew</h3><p>He’s in the car on his way home when Annie texts him, asking him to come over. Today he sent her a 40 minute audio of Andrew trash-talking the women he’s dating, Annie included. Nick’s run errands after work so Annie’s had plenty of time to listen to it. He’s not happy about the thought of going there while she might be crying and mourning but feels responsible. He texts Sam, cancelling their driving lesson, and turns the car around.</p><p>Annie opens the door, mascara smudged from crying. She isn’t crying anymore, she’s fuming. “I want him <i>destroyed</i>!”</p><p>“Then, destroyed, he shall be, darling,” Nick says and steps inside.</p><p>“Good!” She slams the door behind him. “I can’t fucking believe that lowlife-asshole-douchebag-scum’s fucking everyone at work!” She stomps down the hallway towards the kitchen. He trails after her, resigning himself to spending a long night here.</p><p>“Believe it. If you want him destroyed, the first thing on your list should be letting the others hear the audio. If you just tell them, they might not believe you, and take his side.”</p><p>She’s cooking. He hadn’t anticipated that, and thanks his lucky star. She grabs a beer from the fridge, opens it, hands it to him, and goes to the counter to chop vegetables. Murderously. “Good. Keep talking. I’m too angry to think,” she tells him.</p><p>“We get him fired. We expose him to all his girlfriends hoping they’ll dump him so he’ll end up feeling the sting of not having an apartment of his own. The owner of the local newspaper is a drinking buddy of mine. I think I can convince him to make a story out of this, mentioning Andrew by name, warning women about him. If we’re lucky, he’ll run into car trouble, having to spend the money he’s accumulated by living off of you, on his car.”</p><p>“If we’re lucky?” She turns her head to look at him. He shows his teeth in an imitation of a grin. He plans to make sure they’re ‘lucky’. She catches it by the look on his face. “Perfect. Luck. Okay. But how are we going to get him fired? It isn’t against company rules to date coworkers. He’s never done anything wrong at work, except coming in late. And if he gets fired for that, so will I be.”</p><p>“It isn’t against the rules to date coworkers, that’s true. But it is against company rules to disrupt business and willfully sabotage productivity. All employees getting to know he’s duping them at the same time, will cause broken hearts and a grieving employee is either less productive or more productive. We’re guessing that at least one of you will perform worse than usual, not to mention that suddenly <i>all</i> employees will have trouble cooperating with him. Except me, but I’ll kick up a fuss if my hours are further intruded upon. Me and Mr.Williams have a long-standing deal. Plus, Andrew’s been fucking you guys during working hours, which is forbidden.”</p><p>“Yes but <i>all</i> of us have been doing it.”</p><p>“True. But he’s the common nominator. Mr.Williams is interested in productivity. If you haven’t noticed, with Andrew out of the picture, you’ve become more productive, even while screwing me frequently during the workday. That proves that Andrew was, in fact, distracting you. It will be interesting to see how this will affect the rest of the girls. Although I’m not interested in finding out if it’s getting a good dicking from me, that raises your productivity or just having him gone. I’m not gonna screw the others too, to find out.”</p><p>She utters a humourless laugh. “Thank fuck for that. He always went on about how we had to keep it secret from the others or they’d tell our boss. He said you were the only one that could be trusted to keep the secret. In reality, he just didn’t want us to find out about each other. God, I feel so stupid!”</p><p>“I kept the secret, though,” he says jokingly. “And it’s a good thing because he thinks I’m on his side and will talk to me. I’m your inside man. As long as he doesn’t find out about me and you, that is. He has this girls vs boys outlook on life, and he’s prone to believe other men do also. But if you want to rub in his face that I’ve got a bigger dick than he, feel free to do so. Just know that you’ll lose me as an informant if you do. I don’t care either way.”</p><p>“I’ll think about it. Right now I feel like tying him to a chair and make him watch a porno of you fucking me in the ass, while I loudly moan about how much bigger you are and how much better lover you are.”</p><p>“I’d be amenable to that. Am I really, or do you just want him to think that?”</p><p>“You are. Really. Trust me. I’d only been with one guy before Andrew, so I don’t have much of a reference, but you’re by far the best lover I’ve had.”</p><p>Nick takes a deep drink from his beer, then dries his mouth off with the back of his sleeve. “See, that’s what a guy likes to hear. Wait. I’ll be right back.” He leaves the kitchen and goes to the bathroom. He rummages around in the cabinet until he finds the makeup removal pads, then brings them with him to the kitchen. “Turn around.” Annie turns around, anger melting to surprise when he cups her chin softly and tilts her head up to gently dry off the mascara under her eyes, using the pads he brought. “There. Good as new,” he says and gives her a little kiss on the tip of her nose.</p><p>She smiles at him. “Thank you. You’re so sweet.”</p><p>He scoffs jokingly. “Shush, woman. I’m not. Now get my dinner ready,” he jokes before giving her a wink.</p><p>She laughs and hits him on the arm. “Go drink your beer, caveman.”</p><p>He chuckles, shakes his head, and goes to return the pads where he found them, then comes back to the kitchen to obey the order.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Dating to Forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick's trying to forget about the 15-year-old that's got such a strong grip on his mind. He lets Annie distract him with her pussy power. But then one night he sees something that draws him right back to Sam.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Non-graphic rape. Mild violence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Dating To Forget</h3>
<p>The day after they go out drinking, and he ends up staying the night at her place. The day after that, he’s back at her place for dinner, this time bringing her three designer dresses. The next time he comes over her mother shows up, grilling him about his past, present, and future, all while Annie sits in his lap with her arm around his neck. The day after that Annie texts him, asking him to come over, and to bring lube and condoms. He’s immensely pleased about getting to be the first one to have anal sex with her. He keeps canceling on Sam all these times.</p>
<p>The next night he brings her to his place. He can see Sam standing in his window, watching them arrive.</p>
<p>Later, Nick stands in his bedroom looking at the dark square that’s Sam’s window. He can’t see the boy. It’s for the best. When Annie comes into the bedroom he closes the blinds.</p>
<p>He reminds himself that he doesn’t do dating, and this is starting to get perilously close to dating. He isn’t very fond of her as a person either. It makes no sense to him to behave this way. He’s avoided dating for almost 10 fucking years for God’s sake! Maybe it’s because he can’t avoid her, since they work together. But when she’s riding him, her pussy spasming tightly around him as she comes, he thinks this is a great distraction from Sam. Because, fuck. He keeps thinking about the boy.</p>
<p>He gets himself tested since he’s having unprotected sex with one single partner. The test comes back clean. He presents the results to Annie while they’re working together, putting it on the counter in front of her, and hugs her from behind, kissing her neck. “There you go, darling. I’d appreciate it if you’d get yourself tested as well since we’re barebacking.”</p>
<p>“But if you’re clean, doesn’t that mean I am too?”</p>
<p>“Nu-uh. It’s like Russian roulette. You might have something and I might just have been real fucking lucky this far. Most likely you’re good, but would you get yourself tested for me? I’ll drive you to the clinic after work if you want.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God. It’ll be so embarrassing. But yes, sure. Of course.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll come with you in. Ain’t gonna let anyone slut-shame you.”</p>
<p>“Thank you. Oh, and mom invited us over for dinner tomorrow. Will you come?”</p>
<p>He leans his forehead against her shoulder, groaning inwardly. “Darling, you <i>do</i> remember that this is just casual, right? We’re not a couple, and I ain’t making you any promises of fidelity just because you’re the only one I’m currently fucking. You remember that, right?”</p>
<p>“Of course. But mom worries you’re using me. Please come?”</p>
<p>“Fine. What’s the dress code and how many others will be there?” He thinks of his own mom. If she’d made such an invitation, it would not be an intimate dinner for three.</p>
<p>“I think it’s just us?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>She thought wrong. Nick’s glad he’d chosen to shape up for the occasion, dressing in black jeans, shirt, tie, and suit jacket. Annie’s whole family is there, including a couple of cousins. He immediately pinpoints one of her cousins having a thing for her, and keeps a possessive arm around her, or holds her hand, most of the evening. Annie’s surprised at how well-spoken, charming, and polite he is. “Just because I fucking hate people doesn’t mean I don’t know how to behave myself,” he tells her on the way home. It’s more to it, of course. Growing up in a mansion, being the son of a business magnate, is a major factor. But he doesn’t want her to know that. </p>
<p>She lets him be rougher than usual when they fuck. He buys her a used car for 6000 bucks. He makes sure Andrew has car problems, fires him, and gets the article published. One of the girls puts up fliers all over town, warning women of Andrew. The guy is properly ruined and Nick has to hire someone new.</p>
<p>He keeps avoiding Sam but finds himself looking at the fake driver’s license with a painful sensation in his chest. Fucking fifteen-year-old. The longing is disconcerting. </p>
<p>One night when he finally gets to be by himself at home, he brings up Sam’s Internet activity on his computer. He’s been reading up about how to run away from home. He’s also done many, <i>many</i> searches on both Dean and Nick. </p>
<p>Nick shuts off his computer and goes to his bedroom. He keeps his lights off and pulls his blinds up. The pastor and Sam are on their knees by the bed, and Sam’s praying with his eyes closed and head bent. The pastor isn't praying as he usually is. He’s stroking Sam’s naked back up and down, all the way to his ass. The pastor shifts to stand on his knees behind Sam. What happens next sends Nick into a killing rage. He'd suspected, but seeing is another matter. He makes himself watch how Sam’s face contorts in pain before going blank and dead. This isn’t something new, Nick’s sure. Bonahue is soiling something that belongs to Nick. He’s going to pay for it.</p>
<p>The moment Bonahue leaves, locking the door, Nick dials Sam’s number. He sees Sam scramble to get to the phone hidden under his mattress. “It’s Sam?”</p>
<p>“I know, darling. Get dressed and climb out of the window. I've got your ID. We’re going out to test it. We need to see if you can fake the confidence of a 21-year-old if we're going to run off together to find your brother.”</p>
<p>A better person would have called the police. </p>
<p>Nick isn’t a better person. </p>
<p>He watches Sam’s mouth fall open in surprise, then, “On my way.”</p>
<p>“Bring my shirts while you're at it. They’re bound to have lost their scent by now.”</p>
<p>Sam turns a lovely shade of crimson and looks towards the window. Nick turns the light on and waves with a snigger. </p>
<p>Mortified or not, you've got to give Sam credit for boldness. “Can I have another one?”</p>
<p>“Sure you can, darling. I’ll go down and unlock the back door for you.”</p>
<p>“Be right there.”</p>
<p>When Sam shows up he holds out the two stolen shirts and points at Nick. “I want that one. Take it off.”</p>
<p>Nick chuckles. “What? Not even a hello? Tell you what. I'll trade you for the one you're wearing,” he says while taking his shirts from Sam.</p>
<p>Sam immediately pulls it over his head and holds it out. </p>
<p>Nick sniggers and takes his own shirt off, reveling in how Sam drinks in his torso with his eyes. It’s beyond fucked up. He just witnessed Sam getting raped by his adoptive father, and yet, here Sam is, looking at him like he wants him. He hands the shirt over and puts Sam’s shirt on.</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t put it on straight away. He buries his nose in it and inhales deeply while taking in Nick with his gaze. Sam’s shirt is tight on him but otherwise fits, as they're roughly the same height. </p>
<p>“You know how fucked up you are, Winchester?”</p>
<p>“That’s what you like about me,” Sam deadpans. </p>
<p>Nick purses his lips and crosses his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head. “Mh. True. That doesn’t make you less fucked up, though.”</p>
<p>Sam pulls the shirt over his head and looks down at his chest, smoothing it out. “Stop letting her wear your clothes. I don’t like it.”</p>
<p>“Who?” Nick feigns not understanding, thrilling at the jealousy. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t like it.</p>
<p>“Your girlfriend.”</p>
<p>“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just fucking.”</p>
<p>“Liar. You don’t think I know? You hang out all the time, come when she calls, you’ve met the family, and you buy her expensive gifts. <i>Girlfriend</i>.” Sam’s bitchfacing him, still stroking the shirt on his chest. Nick might be a little bit in love with that expression. He might be a little bit in love with the fact that Sam’s been spying too.</p>
<p>Nick picks up his wallet and takes out Sam’s driver’s license. “You think this one came for free?”</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes widen with greed. He takes two long strides, closing the distance between them, and reaches for the card. Nick holds it out of reach and grabs Sam by the neck, hard. “Now, you listen to me, you little shit. Annie is one hell of a lay. She has to whore herself out to me whenever and however, to earn those gifts. She wants to wear my clothes, she may. You come into my home, drink my booze, and steal my medicines. You’re rude and mean. I help you, teach you to drive, take you places, help you with your school project, give you a phonecard, access to the internet, and a fake ID. I’m asking <i>nothing</i> in return from you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well. Maybe you should.” Sam glares defiantly at him, still reaching for the card. </p>
<p>Nick rolls his eyes and lets go of Sam. “Why am I even bothering? Here.” He hands the ID over. “Come on, let’s see if you can use it properly. I think I heard our cab.”</p>
<p>Sam grins and looks at the driver’s license in his hand.</p>
<p>Nick wants to hit him.</p>
<p>When Sam remains standing, beaming at the ID, Nick slaps him. Not too hard. Just enough to convey his displeasure and make it sting.</p>
<p>Sam flinches and looks back at Nick, still fucking grinning. “Huh? Yeah, alright. I’m ready. Coming, boss man.”</p>
<p>Nick grunts and turns to walk towards the door, shaking his head, more at himself than at Sam. He doesn’t want to look at the red mark he left on Sam’s cheek. He’d get turned on and might do worse, under these circumstances. It’s all fucked up. The boy was just raped and yet had recuperated enough to look at Nick with lust when Nick took his shirt off. It’s insane.</p>
<p>
  <i>Something’s seriously wrong in the boy’s head.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>What the Hell do I need to do, to get a thank you from him???</i>
</p>
<p>It pisses him off that it feels like a compulsion to find out.</p>
<p>They leave Nick’s house and go to the waiting cab. “Drive downtown. I’ll tell you where we’re going in a minute,” he tells the cab driver, then takes up his phone to make a call. Sam scoots close to his side, takes his arm, and puts it around himself, leaning towards his chest. He should push Sam away. Instead, he adjusts Sam more comfortably and rests his hand over Sam’s pec, caressing softly with his thumb. Sam’s fucked up alright. But so is he. Their relationship lacks all the social cues of how and when things should happen. There’s no stop-or-go between behaviors, and he just goes with it. This is what he wants, age be damned. Sam cooped up under his arm. His. His. His.</p>
<p>Somebody answers the phone call. “Hey, Joey. It’s Nick. Yes, I know. Long time no see. I heard you just came home from Aspen? Any good snow over there? I’ve got someone with me and he’s never been skiing. Figured I’d take him along for a trip…. Mhm. No. 21 years old and never even seen a snow-covered mountain in real life, if you’d believe that… I just need to decide where to go. Only the best is good enough for him. Aspen okay this time of year? Great. So where you at? We’ll be over for a beer or two.” Nick hangs up and leans forwards to talk to the cabbie. “Sutherland and Main.”</p>
<p>“Got it.”</p>
<p>“I’ve skied once,” Sam informs him when he leans back.</p>
<p>“Have you now?” Nick says with an amused smirk.</p>
<p>“Yeah. On a school trip. To that indoor slope?”</p>
<p>“I see. Well, darling, I can guarantee you that you haven’t been where I’m taking you.”</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Going Skiing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick gives into Sam's wish to try drugs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Drug use. Underage drug use.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Going Skiing</h3><p>Sam looks around curiously in the apartment while Joey greets Nick like an old friend. They’re not friends. Not even close. Most of the time Nick wants to drive a fist straight into that over-energetic, grinning face. Joey talks too fast and is too familiar, invading personal space and crossing boundaries. Nick plays along. No matter how you twist and turn it, Joey’s got the best coke in town. He doesn’t cut it with crap, doesn’t lessen its quality for a higher profit. “Joey, this is Sam, my nephew,” Nick introduces.</p><p>“Sammy, ey, kid? I’m Joey,” Joey says, shaking his hand vigorously, closing his other hand around the grip too. Nick wants to rip his arms off.</p><p>“I’m not a kid.”</p><p>Nick chuckles. “You must excuse him, Joey. It’s a sensitive matter. He’s been homeschooled. His parents are way too religious. He’s a bit naive so many mistake him for being younger.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. It’s alright, Sam. Sam the man. Gottcha.” He claps Sam on the upper arm, grinning. “Lucky uncle Nick’s there for ya, letting you experience the world, right? Right, Sam the man.”</p><p>Bullet through the brain. Yes, that’s what Joey’s aiming for if he doesn’t stop touching Sam.</p><p>Sam flashes his adorable dimples at Joey. “It’s okay. It just gets tiresome. Just turned old enough to drink and they won’t let me into bars, telling me I look too young. No offense meant.”</p><p>“Hey, hey. None taken. Okay, Sam? Those youthful looks going to come in real handy when you get old. Look at me. I looked older than my age when I was a kid, right? I was the one they sent in to buy booze. Was real proud of the fact back then. Now I’m 29 and look older than your uncle Nick. Not so fun anymore, you get me? You. You on the other hand, will look 29 when you’re 40. Worth it. Trust me. It’ll be worth it…” Joey keeps talking a mile a minute, pressing a beer each in their hands. They’re here to buy coke. Honestly, Nick <i>needs</i> coke to put up with fuckwits like Joey. Sam… Sam’s either a fuckwit himself or a masterful actor. God, Nick hopes it’s the latter, or he’s wasting his time on the kid. Sam chatters back, laughs at all of Joey’s crappy jokes, does his part. The only thing giving Nick hope that Sam’s acting as much as Nick is, is that Sam tells a couple of really funny anecdotes about his upbringing in Kansas, with his super religious parents that had him homeschooled.</p><p>“You’re not in Kansas anymore, Sam. Sam the man,” Joey jokes. Nick wants to gag, but laughs along with the both of them. “So what do you say, fellas? Want to bump some snow? Try out the goods?” </p><p>Finally.</p><p>Joey, for some reason, likes Nick. He’s always been generous with the freebies with those he likes. Nick doesn’t use as often as he did when he was young, back when he and Michael, and sometimes Gabe and Cas, were the jetset menace of the cities they came to. He’d learned that when it came to drugs, you adhered to the wishes of your dealer, providing the dealer could muster up the best. Nick thinks that the reason he isn’t using as often anymore is more due to a lack of patience with this bullshit, rather than not feeling like using.</p><p>Joey prepares three lines on a hand mirror, snorts one through a rolled-up bill, hands it over to Nick, who shows Sam how it’s done. He hands it over to Sam, putting it on the living room table in front of him. Sam takes the rolled-up bill and suddenly bursts into laughter. “Oh shit. I just realized this is what you were talking about in the cab, when you talked about going skiing.” He turns towards Joey. “I thought he meant actual skiing, and told him I’d tried it already.”</p><p>Joey finds this hilarious. Nick’s highly amused too, even if he knew already. Coke is a fast-acting drug. You start feeling its effect almost immediately. It can be subtle. It’s not like weed that may hit you in the head. It’s more a shift of attitude, making you feel more confident, upbeat, sociable, superior. It makes you feel fucking great. Not like you suddenly float on clouds or anything. To Nick at least, there’s no marker between the moods. Joey’s just tolerable, even fun to be around. He’s still a fuckwit, but Nick enjoys the feeling of being superior to him.</p><p>Sam hesitates, gives Nick a questioning look, gets an encouraging nod, then bends down to suck the line into his nose.</p><p>He sits up straight, snivels, dries his nose with the back of his hand, blinks a couple of times, then promptly sneezes, cracking both Nick and Joey up.</p><p>They stay for another 45 minutes, talking, drinking beer, laughing. During this time another customer shows up. The guy does not receive the same warm welcome. The exchange is quick and businesslike, and Joey throws him out straight away once it’s done.</p><p>They do another free line before they leave. Nick and Joey settle the deal while Sam’s using the bathroom, and Nick’s pleased to note he’s getting a far better price than the other guy that was here. Sometimes, it’s worth putting up with shitheads like Joey.</p><p>“Holy shit! What a fucking idiot!” Sam says once they’re outside, walking away. “I don’t get how you could keep a straight face. Don’t tell me you actually like that guy?”</p><p>Nick laughs. “Not even a little. But he’s got the best stuff in the city. He sells to many of the other dealers, and they cut it up with crap to make a profit. How do you feel?”</p><p>“I feel <i>awesome</i>!” Sam’s beaming, eyes bright and alert.</p><p>Nick chuckles. “Good. That’s the point.”</p><p>“So where are we going?”</p><p>“Everywhere. We need to test out your acting skills. What better way to do it, than go bar hopping?”</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Toxic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They're out partying and Sam is making it very hard for Nick to resist him. The more Sam shows of the darkness inside of him, the more Nick wants him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Toxic</h3>
<p>The thing about coke, is it sobers you up. Drinking alcohol while snorting is a waste of money. That’s not to say, they don’t try their damndest to get drunk between doing lines. At some places, the bouncer or bartender questions Sam’s age, but Sam’s bringing his A-game, charming his way into the bars they visit. They stick to their story, and Nick introduces him to a lot of people. “Holy shit, you know, like, everybody,” Sam says when they leave one place.</p>
<p>“When I party, I party hard, love. Then I reach my bullshit tolerance level and take a break for a period of time. But generally, it’s the same people out and about.” Nick slips his arm around Sam’s waist and tugs him close while they walk. It’s getting increasingly hard to claim they’re related. Nick wants to touch too much.</p>
<p>They go to a disco type of bar. A huge dance floor and a bar, strobe lights flashing. You can barely hear what people are saying in the bar unless you stand very close. Nick sits down on a barstool and turns towards Sam. Sam steps into the V of his legs just as Annie had done. The only difference is that when Sam puts his hands on Nick’s thighs, Nick’s heart feels too big for his chest. He raises his hand to flag the bartender for two beers, then rests his hands on Sam’s hips, stroking with his thumbs on the soft skin under the shirt, just above the hem of the jeans. He leans in close to be heard. “Why do you have to be so young, darling?”</p>
<p>“I'm 21.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have the luxury to pretend I believe that, love. I've seen you grow up.” They’re cheek to cheek. His stubble rubs against Sam’s smooth skin. He knows Sam needs to shave. He’s seen stubble on his chin before. But he doubts he needs to do so often. He nibbles on Sam’s earlobe. He’s stupid like that. Sam shivers, goosebumps rising on his neck.</p>
<p>“You don’t care about my age,” Sam challenges breathlessly. </p>
<p>“No. I really don't. But the law does.” Sam smells so good. <i>So</i> good. </p>
<p>“You don’t care about the law.” Sam trails his lips along his cheek, slowly making his way towards Nick’s mouth.</p>
<p>“<i>Nephew?</i> Hah! Oh, I bet!” They lean apart enough to see a woman they met a few bars prior grinning at them, that Nick’s known for a couple of years. </p>
<p>“What can I say, Betty? We're a close-knit family,” Nick says with a smirk, fanning out a hand possessively over Sam’s back while reaching for his beer. </p>
<p>“Mhm. Sure. I know what this is. You’re saying he’s your nephew so that girlfriend of yours will let you two go out without a fuss.” Betty has no moral qualms about it. She’s just amused. </p>
<p>“Oh, come now. Lying? <i>Me?</i> I would never. It’s our Midwest farmer heritage. Sharing genes is an aphrodisiac to us. Besides, Annie knows it's only casual, no promises made.” He takes a swig of his beer then places a kiss on Sam’s forehead, since the boy's leaning his head against his shoulder.</p>
<p>Betty laughs. “You scoundrel. You might have told Annie that, but she’s too in love with you to believe it.”</p>
<p>“Whelp. Then she’s in for some major disappointment up ahead. I really haven’t lied to her about the level of my devotion. She has way too fierce competition from this piece of shit here,” he says and snuffles Sam’s hair. He can’t decide if he likes the way Sam’s catty eyes narrows and lips curve up in a smug smirk, or if it worries him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They’re walking towards the corner of Main to grab a cab back home. </p>
<p>“Can we do another line?” Sam asks. </p>
<p>“Not tonight, love. You’re not getting any more coke tonight.”</p>
<p>Sam’s content smile doesn’t waver. </p>
<p>“In fact…” Nick stops, grabs Sam by the arm, and spins him around to face him. “Open your mouth. I’m going to spit in it.”</p>
<p>Sam, the stupid little fucking shithead, opens his mouth obligingly, even knowing there’s no reward for it. Nick wasn’t going to insist if Sam protested. It was a test, more than anything. But now? Nick gathers saliva in his mouth and spits. Sam closes his mouth, swallows, and opens it again, looking as content as he’s ever done.</p>
<p>The feeling behind Nick’s ribcage…. It’s like having a fucking freight train loaded with toxin crashing straight into his chest. Sam could be 15 or 55, it probably wouldn’t make a lick of difference. Nick’s firmly under his spell. He wonders if he’s being played. Sam obviously <i>can</i> act like a normal person, which he’s proved tonight. But it’s the discord he shows when he’s with Nick, that’s what has Nick by the balls. The way he, by his behavior, begs for Nick to burn him, to bring out the monster and let him in on all his shadows…</p>
<p>
  <i>Michael used to love the monster too.</i>
</p>
<p>He should fight against this. Get the kid away from him. Put a camera in his window and record what the good Pastor is doing to this boy, turn in the video to the Police and CPS. That’s what he <i>should</i> do. Sam’s too old to be adopted. He’d end up in a home for boys, made to see a shrink and/or a therapist that maybe could help him snap out of the fucked up state Nick loves about him. He’d probably be removed from the city altogether, to help protect him once news got out about his abuse.</p>
<p>Nick spits again, Sam swallowing without a peep of protest. Nick reaches out and strokes Sam’s too-long bangs out of his face. The boy deserves an award of some sort. He can’t give him coke. Not after saying he wouldn’t. “Close your mouth, Sam. You’ve never had sex with a woman. Do you want to?”</p>
<p>“Duh. Of course I want to.”</p>
<p>“You want me to find you a girl before we go home? What do you want? High-end escort? Trashy whore? Normal drunk chick? What age? Any kink in particular? You know, Betty is lactating and has a major breastfeeding kink if you’re into that. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen.”</p>
<p>“Annie.”</p>
<p>“Come again?”</p>
<p>“I want to fuck your girlfriend. One way or another.”</p>
<p>Nick clicks his tongue in frustration. Of course. “Darling, she’s not that kind of girl.”</p>
<p>“I don't care. One way. Or <i>another</i>,” Sam insists. “Look. You said you'd make it happen.”</p>
<p>He’s being the worst kind of little shit. Nick isn’t dumb enough to not get that he’s being tested. Sam’s probably being passive-aggressive about all the times Nick’s blown him off because of her.</p>
<p>Nick runs his fingers through his hair and looks away from Sam, annoyed wrinkle between his eyebrows. </p>
<p>“Please, Nick. I want you to give me this,” Sam begs, giving him the puppy-eyed look that makes Nick want to eat him alive.</p>
<p>“Fair enough. But it won't happen tonight, alright? I need to convince her first. And when it happens, you tell her whatever lie I tell you to tell. Is that clear?”</p>
<p>Sam nods. “Crystal.”</p>
<p>“Good. Now, come on. Let’s go home before the good Pastor notices you’re gone.” Nick throws his arm around Sam’s neck, and Sam’s arm comes to rest on his midriff as they walk to the cabs.</p>
<p>In the cab, Sam’s curled up against his chest while Nick holds him possessively, snuffles his hair, and kisses his forehead. They don’t talk, and Nick’s chest aches.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam can make Nick do things for him, but he can't control how Nick does them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some of you might recognize a small part of this chapter from Meet the Family. This is an AU of an AU after all. ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Promises</h3>
<p>“Mikey?” He asks as a heated dream fades into confused wakefulness.</p>
<p>“Sssh, it's okay.” Michael kisses his neck and grips his cock, already hard. “I figured out why I can't find anyone to love and can't allow you to either.”</p>
<p>“Mhm?” he moans and rolls his hips against the treatment he’s getting. Feels fucking fantastic and his drunken body doesn’t give a shit about anything except how it feels. “Ts wrong,” his mind supplies unhelpfully. </p>
<p>“I don’t care,” Mikey says and pinches his nipple, sucking a mark on his throat. “Just let it happen.” </p>
<p>“Mikey,<i> nooo</i>,” he whines, while his brain is warring with the physical gratification he’s getting, resistance exceedingly low, despite growing mental discomfort.</p>
<p>“I want you to give me this.”</p>
<p>And that’s all that matters. Always have been. There isn’t a world where Luci would deny Michael anything, not even this. Regardless of the feeling of ‘wrong’ and ‘no’ and ‘I don’t want this’ in the back of his mind.</p><hr/>
<p>Nick wakes up with a jerk, heart aching painfully. Another time, another life. Back when he was still Lucifer Nicholas Williams, the wayward son of a business magnate. It’s been a long time since he dreamed of Michael. Irish twins, closer than any siblings had the right to be, even before Michael pushed them over the edge into the darkly forbidden. There hadn’t been a person alive that Nick loved more fiercely. The feeling of ‘wrong’ and ‘no’ and ‘I don’t want this’ had turned into ‘right’, ‘YES!’ and ‘I need this to survive’ within the span of three explorative sessions. Nick had just let go of his inhibitions and gone with his feelings. Feelings. Corrosive. Toxic. Possessive. Obsessed. The kind of feelings that rendered his behavior infra dig.</p>
<p>And now those feelings are being reignited by a fucking kid.</p>
<p>‘<i>I want you to give me this.</i>’</p>
<p>Michael had said it. Sam had said it. </p>
<p>It’s all that matters. He couldn’t deny them if he tried.</p><hr/>
<p>“You ever fantasized about being with two guys at once?” </p>
<p>“Have you ever fantasized about taking a guy’s virginity?”</p>
<p>He slips these questions in innocuously amongst other sex-related queries while Annie’s either keyed up and horny, or sated and wrung out. He soon realizes that people are right. Even if he’s told Annie that this is just casual, she’s thinking of them as a couple. She'll agree with him that it's casual when he says it, but he figures out that she only agrees to keep him from spooking like a skittish horse. </p>
<p>It’s a bother. </p>
<p>Unless he can use that somehow, to get her to fuck Sam. </p>
<p>If he'd push the ‘casual’, he might break her heart and she'd never say yes. So he turns it around, playing up their coupley behavior, taking care of her better, spoiling her, ‘courting’ her mother and family. All the while amping up their sexual adventurousness. </p>
<p>Annie’s family is pretty old-fashioned in one way, but modern in another. They’ve got the whole females should take care of their men, children, and the home thing going on. Men should bring home the dough. However, women are loudly opinionated in their family, and demand to have careers of their own. This isn’t a bad thing, as far as Nick’s concerned. Annie cooks, cleans, and works. She doesn’t expect him to help at home. Andrew’s failure to be an equal partner helps Nick’s cause too. </p>
<p>Nick’s not a sweet-talker like Andrew was. He doesn’t have the patience to say the right things. He’s always been a person who speaks through actions. </p>
<p>He ‘helps’ get one of her cousins hired at the plant nursery, for the position Andrew left open. The guy’s been unemployed since he finished college and is eager to work. </p>
<p>Nick spoils Annie with gifts. She dreams of living a rich people’s life, and saves up for things she wants, buying designer stuff rather than cheap knock-offs. Luxurious gifts never fail to get her happy. </p>
<p>One day she gives him her keys so he can go home and wait for her there, since she works closing, and he doesn't. When she comes home, he’s cleaned the house, done the laundry, and cooked a simple meal. </p>
<p>It almost makes her cry. </p>
<p>Another day he takes her out to a fancy restaurant. She beams at him the whole time. </p>
<p>He wishes Sam would appreciate the energy he puts into manipulating Annie to get her to agree to sleep with Sam. If this fails, there are always roofies and a blindfold. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life he's resorted to extreme measures. </p>
<p>He schedules two visits. One in Nevada, and one in Oregon. It’s time to call Gabe.</p><hr/>
<p>“Hey, Gabe. Want to pretend to own a plant nursery?”</p>
<p>“It’s a long-standing dream of mine, Luci,” Gabe quips.</p>
<p>It’s funny how some things never change. Back in the days, either of them would introduce the other as something they weren’t, and the other would roll with it. When they got older, they’d call each other, plan ahead, have a goal to achieve.</p>
<p>11 years hadn’t changed that. They slot back into old habits as if not a day had passed. </p>
<p>The four brothers had been close, all of them, and all of them born with less than a year between them. Some people say it’s impossible for a woman to get pregnant within a month of having a child. Nobody had informed their mother’s body of that. Hence, Mikey and Luci were born the same year. They had gotten a younger brother named Raphael, that their mother swore was their last sibling. But then he died at the age of four, and her mother had once again become a broodmare, producing three more sisters for them. Maybe it was the age gap, or the sex of their new siblings, considering the sexist influences of their father, but none of the brothers ever got close to their sisters emotionally. But so it was. Nick hadn’t thought of Anna, Hannah, or Hester at all since he was disowned. Mikey, Gabe, and Cas, though… they were all missing limbs, aching painfully.</p>
<p>Even if he and Mikey were the closest, Gabe and he are the most alike. Mikey would say things like ‘Wouldn’t it be fun if somebody dyed the neighbor’s white Persians pink?’, Luci and Gabe would set out to make it happen. Cas, seemingly shy and quiet, would discreetly keep watch or gather intel. He wasn’t as shy or awkward as he’d appear. He was probably the smartest one of them.</p>
<p>“Good. This is what I need…”</p><hr/>
<p>“Where are you going?” Sam comes running when he’s loading the suitcases into the car.</p>
<p>“Vegas.”</p>
<p>“How long will you be gone?”</p>
<p>“A week.” Nick isn’t looking at Sam. The slight desperation in Sam’s voice makes him uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“Are you taking her?” Sam’s tone is spiteful and accusatory. </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“You should be taking me.”</p>
<p>Nick sighs and closes the trunk. He turns around to give Sam an exasperated look. The boy has grown over the months since Nick’s gotten to know him. If he keeps growing he’ll be much taller than Nick as an adult, and that’s saying something. “Sam, love, if you can figure out a way to get out of your home unsupervised for a minimum of four days, without causing Bonahue to punish you for it, I’ll take you to Vegas in a heartbeat. That’s not a lie. But this isn’t a honeymoon trip. I’ve got things I need to do in the area, and I’m taking Annie in an effort to convince her to sleep with you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Sam’s nostrils flare, his mouth drawing into a thin line. He looks away, eyes narrowed angrily. “I don’t want you to leave.”</p>
<p>Nick snaps his fingers and points at the ground by his feet. Sam comes obediently, despite being a pissy little bitch. “You don’t think I’m going to abandon you, do you?”</p>
<p>Sam looks at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I dunno,” he says after a moment of grumpy silence.</p>
<p>“Winchester, look at me.” Sam looks up, face closed off and dark. Nick reaches out to cup his face. “Darling, I’ve made you promises. I promised we’d find your brother. I promised you’d get to fuck Annie. I intend to keep those promises.”</p>
<p>“What about us running away together?”</p>
<p>“You’ve never confirmed to me that was something you wanted.”</p>
<p>“I want it.”</p>
<p>“Then I’ll make that happen too. But not right now. First thing’s first. I’ll be gone for a week. You’ll survive without me. Okay, love?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Sam says grumpily, tone clearly stating that it’s not okay.</p>
<p>“Good. Now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, while I’m away,” Nick jokes. Sam just gives him a flat stare. Nick tugs him in and hugs him, broad daylight be damned. Sam doesn’t reciprocate but doesn’t protest either. Nick turns his head to nuzzle Sam’s cheek. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.” He kisses Sam’s temple and then lets go.</p>
<p>It fucking hurts inside, driving off, seeing Sam looking forlorn in the rearview mirror.</p><hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Hoodwinked</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick puts his plan in motion to convince Annie to do the devil's tango with Sam, all while he finally gets reunited with one of his brothers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Hoodwinked</h3>
<p>“Oh my God!” Annie’s so excited she’s bouncing on her feet when they enter the hotel suite. “How on earth did you afford this?” She’s suitably impressed by all the marble, mahogany, expensive furniture, and fabrics. “It’s almost as big as my apartment.”</p>
<p>“You have a small apartment.”</p>
<p>“I don’t. Screw you,” Annie says with a big grin. She skips into the suite to explore while Nick directs the bellhop where he's supposed to leave their bags, presses a 20 dollar bill into his hand, and goes into the bedroom to unpack. He'd told Annie to bring all her designer shit when she agreed to join him. This trip is 100% for Sam’s benefit, even if Sam will never know it. He'd explained to Annie that he had things to do that she couldn’t join him for, but that he had someone he wanted to introduce her to, and that he wanted to give her a chance to use the gifts he'd given her.</p>
<p>“<i>Oh my God!</i> Nick! You’ve got to see this!” Annie’s delighted call from the bathroom makes him smirk. She’s obviously found the jacuzzi. Nick hasn’t paid for this, Gabe has. Or rather, Gabe uses the family account for this. His little brother is more loyal to him than their father, and sneakily lets their father pay.</p>
<p>He goes to the bathroom and hugs Annie from behind. If she’d smile any wider her head might split in half. “Like it, darling?”</p>
<p>“Like it? I love it! I've never been in such a luxurious place in my life!”</p>
<p>“This is just the beginning. I'm warning you, though, it’s going to be tedious when we go to the dinner we're invited to. Too many courses and too much small talk. But they’re going to envy me, getting to bring such a beautiful date.”</p>
<p>“Tssk. Suck up.”</p>
<p>“It’s the truth. You'll see. Now, go unpack. I'm going to nip out for a quick errand, then we'll have champagne and spoil ourselves.”</p>
<p>She smiles and turns around in his embrace. “Can we take a bath?”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Nick gives her a kiss and frees himself. “I'll be back soon.”</p>
<p>He leaves their suite and takes the elevator upstairs one flight. He knocks on the door of the suite above theirs. The door opens and Gabe assaults him with a giant hug. “Lucifer! You sneaky bugger! I've missed the hell out of you. Please, tell me you won't go into hiding again.”</p>
<p>Nick sniggers, hugging back just as fiercely. Something rattles loose inside, threatening to make him cry. It’s been over a decade since he last met Gabe, and fuck, he loves his little brother. “Missed you too, munchkin bro. I don’t think I can stay away even if I tried. It’s been fucking lonely,” he confesses with a grin. The reason he went up here before introducing Annie and Gabe later tonight is that he doesn’t want her to see how emotional this makes him. They’re supposed to be old friends, not brothers, as far as Annie knows. </p>
<p>“You need to see Cas too. He threw a fit when he heard you'd show up when he couldn't come. Hester and Anna’s visiting him in France, and you know they'd rat us out to pops in a heartbeat. Honestly, I don’t care if I get disowned. I've been securing private assets since he kicked you out. But there’s a time and place for everything.”</p>
<p>Nick stays for 15 minutes. He holds on to Gabe for five of those. So what if he's a bit sentimental? It’s like re-attaching a lost limb. Staying away for a decade hadn’t been easy. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t think he can do it again.</p>
<p>He orders room service to his suite from Gabe’s, then goes back to receive it. He proceeds to be the perfect, romantic boyfriend to Annie. He can be. He’s raised to <i>know</i> how to behave, even if he rarely makes the effort. He won’t tell her the same lies Andrew told her. The crap about love, and being together forever. No. The goal is to make her feel like she’s floating on clouds, and want this to last forever, thinking it can. Then Gabe will pop that balloon with a few choice words, only to offer her the hope of being able to keep what she’s got, by allowing Nick to play out his fantasies with her. He doesn’t have any fantasies as such―that doesn’t entail him and Sam, <i>alone</i>―but he’ll make up a couple that fits his purpose. All to get her to allow Sam to stick his dick in her without having to resort to roofies. One way or another was the deal, right? </p>
<p>“You look absolutely dazzling, darling,” Nick whispers as he leads Annie into the dining hall on the top floor of the hotel. It’s overlooking all of Vegas; hotels, casinos glittering like a tacky dragon’s treasure trove below them. Annie’s trying very hard to seem as blasé about it as he is, not to embarrass herself in front of the people in here. He’d bought her a designer dress fit for the red carpet, with matching shoes and a clutch for this occasion, surprising her with it just as they were supposed to get ready.</p>
<p>“You look like James Bond,” she counters with an excited gleam in her smiling eyes.</p>
<p>He chuckles. It’s the first time he’s worn a tuxedo in years. Putting it on transforms him mentally, makes him slide right back into his old self. Or rather, the old self he’d show off in public. Suave and arrogant, like the little boys they were that used to play at being their dad as kids, firing the maids for failing to clean up a spill fast enough. They were raised getting tips like ‘Women are beneath us, but don’t you ever think for a minute, that they’re dumb.’ Their dad had very gross opinions about colored people and gays too. Had he not been such a cold man, maybe the racism would have rubbed off on them. It hadn’t. And when it came to the brothers, they were all over the Kinsey scale. They identified as straight, bi, pan, and gay, in falling order. The truth was more like bi, pan, pan, and gay if you looked at their sexual behaviors, instead of how they identified. But their dad saw it like straight, disgrace, straight, straight. Their father was a master of denial, to say at least.</p>
<p>“Nick! You finally decided to crawl out of the jungle, you old devil! It’s about time,” Gabe calls out, walking towards them.</p>
<p>“Who are you calling old? I’m as frolicky and limber as I ever was,” Nick jokes and reaches out to shake his hand with a big grin. He steps in close and grabs Gabe’s handshake with both hands, while Gabe squeezes his upper arm with his free hand. They’re playing at showing dignified affection, displaying that they’re close, by keeping little distance between them, but skip the hugging, showing them as friends, not brothers.</p>
<p>“Have you finally gotten tired of poking around in the dirt? Ready to get back in the corporate game? If so, I’ve got a nice CEO position waiting for you.”</p>
<p>Nick laughs. “I’m afraid not. As alluring as swindling people out of their money seems, making things grow is still my main passion.”</p>
<p>“Shucks. Sorry to hear that. Well, the moment you grow tired of it, give me a call. Can’t let anyone snatch all that talent away from me.”</p>
<p>“You know it, Gabe.” They grin at each other, then Nick puts a hand in the small of Annie’s back and guides her forward. “I want you to meet somebody…”</p>
<p>Gabe whistles. “Holy smokes, Nick! How come your ugly mug always gets the most beautiful ladies? How about letting me in on some action later?” he says and wiggles his eyebrows at Annie, who tenses up, barely keeping her smile.</p>
<p>Nick scoffs. “<i>Gabe</i>. As much as I miss having a menage a trois, Annie isn’t that kind of lady. <i>And</i> she’s an employee of yours. This is Annie Masterson, Annie, this is Gabriel Williams, the owner of Luci’s Eden.”</p>
<p>Gabe pulls his lips down and his eyebrows up in a silent ‘Yikes!’ gesture, then apologetically offers Annie his hand. “I’m terribly sorry for that, Miss Masterson,” he says and bows low over her hand when she takes his. “Nick and I go way back, and we have a history of,” he coughs, skillfully feigning embarrassment, “<i>sharing</i>. I’m afraid I jumped to conclusions about what kind of date he’d be bringing. From everything Nick’s told me about you, you’re a very capable young woman, one I should be grateful to have in my employ. I hope you can forgive my indiscretion?”</p>
<p>Annie side-eyes Nick briefly, then relaxes. Gabe would, of course, not have jumped to any conclusions like that at all. It’s a pre-arranged misstep, all so Nick could drop that line about missing threesomes. She smiles at Gabe. “No offense taken, Mr. Williams. It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you.”</p>
<p>Gabe grins. “I highly doubt that, after that lead-in. But I hope I can make up for it. Call me Gabe.” He looks at Nick with a curious expression. “I didn’t get that you were dating, last time we spoke of Annie?”</p>
<p>“We weren’t,” Nick answers. An answer that alluded that they are, without him confirming it.</p>
<p>Gabe smiles at Annie. “That explains it. Well. Come on, let me introduce you to my other guests…” </p>
<p>The evening is boring. At least to Nick. He and Gabe trade small gestures and expressions, adding silent commentary to all that goes on, which is a highlight. Annie however, <i>loves</i> it. She’s getting compliments from both men and women about her looks, and quite a few of the eligible bachelors flirt discreetly with her when Nick’s not nearby. Nick doesn’t mind as long as she’s happy about the attention and they back off when he nears.</p>
<p>Dinners such as these would be great if one didn’t have to wait between courses and do small talk. The food is amazing and is one of the things he misses about living the high life. Tiny servings as beautiful to look at as they taste good. The crowd Gabe’s invited is tailored to make Annie feel welcome. They’re not in on the plan, but they’re all people who respect ‘ordinary’ people, and won’t look down on Annie’s lack of education, money, or pedigree. Most importantly, they’re people who wouldn’t know Nick for who he really is.</p>
<p>After dinner, they mingle. Annie’s confident enough to mingle on her own, leaving Nick to go outside to the balcony to smoke a cigar with Gabe. They talk about this and that until they notice Annie nearing them. They pretend they don’t notice her coming.</p>
<p>“Two months, huh? She must be really special to keep you coming back for so long without growing tired of her. How long do you usually last? A week?” Gabe asks. Not true. Yes, Nick can be the biggest slut of them all. But if the sex is good, and he feels comfortable with the person, he is very capable of having long, monogamous relationships. Hell, he’d kept himself monogamous to a fucking whore for a full year, before she moved out of town. And that was purely based on sex. Which, to be fair, his and Annie’s relationship is too, from his side anyway.</p>
<p>Nick shrugs. “I don’t see myself growing tired of her anytime soon. But I admit, there are things that I want, that are off the table. And I’m not happy about it. It might be the only thing, though.”</p>
<p>“Yeah? What’s that?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been gagging to add another participant into the mix. But I doubt that would be well-received if I’d suggest it.” Nick and Gabe are well aware that Annie’s hidden herself behind a nearby pillar to listen in.</p>
<p>“Mh. Yes, women can be a bit sensitive about being told you want another woman to join in.”</p>
<p>“<i>Woman</i>? Fuck no. I’m not interested in adding another woman. Believe me, Annie’s all the woman you’d need. No joke.”</p>
<p>“Missing dick then, huh? But isn’t it like every woman’s dream to have two guys devoted to her?”</p>
<p>“Pfft. You mix up your dirty mind with every woman’s, Gabe. No, I think… I’m not sure if she’s comfortable with my bisexuality if I’m to be honest. And it’s not like I need to do anything <i>with</i> him, you know? I’d be fully satisfied with two on one, or cuckolding, rather than a real threesome. But Annie’s a bit old-fashioned. I think it grosses her out that I get turned on by men too. She hides it well. It’s just the feeling I get.” He shrugs again, letting insecurity creep into his voice.</p>
<p>“I’d be a bit apprehensive too if I were you, if you like her and she’s got backbone biphobia going on. I mean considering you got disowned and cut off from all your family because you refused to stay in the closet.”</p>
<p>“Can we not talk about that.”</p>
<p>“Of course. Sorry.” They’re quiet for a beat puffing their cigars, then Gabe says “So, about Annie. I’ve seen you get hurt in the past, Nick. You don’t think she’s using you just for your money?”</p>
<p>Nick grunts. “I doubt she knows how much I have.”</p>
<p>“I know you, Nick. You’ll be spoiling her rotten.”</p>
<p>“So what? I like giving gifts. She’s good at showing her gratitude. Don’t worry about it.” Nick huffs in amusement. “Besides, if anything, she’s using me as a way to get back at her ex. Really, Gabe. Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p>“She seems like a good woman.”</p>
<p>“She is. And she’s an amazing cook. Best home-cooked food I’ve had in years. She made this Javanese―“</p>
<p>Annie chooses this moment to come out of hiding. “Nick?” </p>
<p>They turn around, acting surprised. Nick’s face split into a big smile. He holds his arm out for her to come and stand beside him so he can put it around her waist. “Darling! I was just bragging about what an amazing cook you are. Are you horribly bored of this place yet?”</p>
<p>She smiles and sidles close. “Not at all. Everybody’s very nice. I just wondered where you’d gone off to.”</p>
<p>“Hiding,” Nick says with a snigger. “There’s only so much bullshit I can tolerate. You smoke cigars?”</p>
<p>She shakes her head.</p>
<p>“Want to try?” Gabe asks.</p>
<p>“No, thank you. I tried smoking once in high school. It’s not for me,” she declines politely. Sam would have said yes. Oh, he’d probably give some spiel about how only losers poisoned their lungs with smoke before he tried, but he’d jump at the chance to do anything offered to him. Perfect little piece of shit.</p>
<p>“Miss Masterson, is it okay if I call you Annie?” Gabe asks.</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“Annie, I’ve asked Nick to do me a couple of favors. He may have told you that he’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow, and then one day later this week?” Annie nods a confirmation. “Would you do me the honor of letting me show you around town when he’s gone? To make up for putting my foot in my mouth at our introduction.”</p>
<p>She looks up at Nick, who nods and smiles encouragingly. She looks back at Gabe and smiles. “I would love that.”</p>
<hr/>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm really excited about the following two chapters. :D Nick's really made this trip for Sam and you'll find out why. ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Campbell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick leaves Annie in Gabe's cunning care to make one of the visits he'd planned for Sam's sake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*excited*</p>
<p>You won't be seeing this guy again for quite a long time, but I'm excited for the introduction anyway. :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Campbell</h3>
<p>He’s waiting in the interrogation room, more nervous than he ought to be. He can hear the heavy doors open further down the corridor, mechanical locks whirring. The door is thick enough for him not to hear the footsteps approaching. Everything about this is making him antsy. <i>Jail</i> is making him antsy. He’s got a fear of being locked up. Their father had tried that as a punishment once, much like Sam’s door is locked behind him when he goes to bed. Of course, Nick’s confinement had included an ensuite bathroom, private phone, and food delivered regularly, with full access to books and internet. Back in those days, the internet wasn’t what it was today. But still. After five fucking days he’d been unable to stand it and jumped out of the window to escape, breaking both of his legs, rebellious streak amped to the max instead of quelled.</p>
<p>Father never repeated the punishment. He was smart enough to see when an action didn’t have the intended purpose.</p>
<p>The lock beeps, a red light blinking by the card reader beside the door, then the lock clicks open and the heavy door swings inward. Nick gets up from his chair and puts on a polite smile. Two guards lead in the youth he’s here to see. He’s dressed in an orange jumpsuit and his feet and hands are cuffed. He looks angry and resentful, but he might legit be the most beautiful young man Nick’s ever laid eyes on, jaded outlook or not. </p>
<p>Dean Campbell.</p>
<p>“Mr. Campbell. Hi. I’m Federal Agent Nick Perditus,” Nick says and offers his hand for a handshake. Dean looks at his hand with faint repulsion and doesn’t make any move to shake it. “Fair enough.” Nick lowers his hand and addresses the guards. “Can you get us two cups of coffee? Put milk in it. I don’t want it scalding.” He looks at Dean. “Do you want sugar in yours?” Dean shakes his head. Nick addresses the guards again. “One with two lumps of sugar, and one without. Make sure you stir the one with sugar before you put milk in it. Now, leave us.” He gestures for Dean to sit down and sits down himself while the guards leave, closing the door behind them.</p>
<p>Dean obeys. He sits down opposite Nick, looking at him, unimpressed.</p>
<p>Nick takes a small recording device from his pocket, hits record, and puts it on the table between them. He’s also recording the audio on his phone, but Dean doesn’t have to know that. “Mr. Campbell, I’m here to ask you some questions about your family. So let’s start by clarifying, do you prefer if I call you Campbell or Winchester?”</p>
<p>“I’m not answering shit without a lawyer. I’ve told you before, I know fucking <i>nothing</i> about what dad was up to. Why won’t you fuckers get it, and leave me the fuck alone?”</p>
<p>“Fair enough. I’m not here to ask about John Winchester. I’m here about your brother.”</p>
<p>“Chris is not my brother. Another thing you dense fuckers can’t seem to wrap your heads around.” </p>
<p>Christian Campbell. Sam and Dean’s cousin. After Sam was adopted, the state had managed to track down their only living family. Their grandfather Samuel Campbell, their mom’s father, who took care of their cousin Chris. He’d taken Dean in. It had lasted a year before Dean was put back into the mill again. Chris and Dean had kept in touch sporadically over the years, and Chris had slipped into criminality too. He was currently serving time in Pennsylvania, but Dean doesn’t know that.</p>
<p>There’s a knock on the door, the lock beeps, clicks open, and one of the guards comes in with their coffees. He sets them down in front of the pair, Nick thanks him, then informs him to wait outside.</p>
<p>Nick takes a sip of the lukewarm coffee and opens the file he has lying in front of himself. He puts the cup down, takes out a photo, and slides it over to Dean’s side of the table. “Dean, I’m not talking about your cousin.”</p>
<p>Dean throws a brief look at the photo. “I don’t know that guy.”</p>
<p>“Mmh. I suppose so. It’s been ten years since they separated you two, after all.”</p>
<p>Dean’s nostrils flare, and his gaze jumps back to the photo. His jaw muscles clench spasmodically.</p>
<p>“I’m going to go ahead and tell you, what Sam told me, about what happened. After your dad was arrested Sam and you were taken to a Christian orphanage. You didn’t stay there for long. Sam told me you were taking a bath together, bathing in a bathtub for the first time in your life. He accidentally touched your penis, you got an erection, and he proceeded to play with it, thinking it was funny. You turned red in the face but lifted your hip to give him better accessibility to continue touching your penis. At that time there was an inspection of the orphanage. You were found out, which consecutively led to you two being separated for incestuous reasons.” Nick talks dispassionately, watching Dean with a blank expression and heavy eyelids.</p>
<p>Dean is colouring <i>oh</i>, so prettily. It might very well be due to anger, judging by how his eyes are widening, eyebrows drawing down, and lips thinning. Mugshots never do anyone justice. Nick wonders if John Winchester is as attractive as his two sons. He’ll find out on his visit later in the week.</p>
<p>“The fuck are you implying?” Dean spits out angrily.</p>
<p>“I’m not implying anything, Dean. I’m solely telling you what Sam told me.”</p>
<p>“So what? You’re gonna try nailing me for incest and child molestation now too? Is that it?”</p>
<p>“Unless you have plans to offering your ass to me, I’m not here to nail you in any way,” Nick states flatly. “Sam told me you hadn’t been told that you aren’t supposed to touch another male’s genitalia, nor that it is considered both wrong and illegal if such touches are traded between siblings. I can see no wrongs committed of any kind, except by the adults around you at the time.”</p>
<p>Dean glowers suspiciously at him. Nick takes his coffee and takes another sip. This time Dean reaches for his cup too. Nick’s half expecting him to throw it at Nick’s face. Dean doesn’t. He simply takes a sip and keeps holding onto the cup between his cuffed hands, like a shield to keep nerves at bay.</p>
<p>Nick goes on. “The day after the incident they came and took Sam away. According to him, it took four adults to restrain you when they took him. You made him a promise at that time, shouting it at him. Do you remember that promise?”</p>
<p>Dean keeps quiet. Jaw muscles clenching and unclenching.</p>
<p>Nick hums. “I think you do remember. According to your file, you ran away from home, no less than 48 times, during the year you spent with your grandfather. My conclusion is that you were set on honoring that promise. My question is, are you still set on finding him, or have you left him behind? It's been ten years.”</p>
<p>“What’s it to you?”</p>
<p>“Me personally? Nothing. I would imagine it would have been hard for you to follow through with your promise, as steps have been taken, to keep the two of you apart. Allow me to read a quote from one of the documents in the CPS files about you two.” Nick shuffles amongst the papers in the file in front of him. “Dean (9) is a very mentally ill boy, that has been molesting his younger brother Sam (5) sexually for a minimum of a year, according to findings. Possibly due to fatherly influence. Sam’s mental and physical welfare is compromised as long as he may interact with Dean. It is therefore pertinent that the brothers be kept apart and all measures should be taken not to inflict further trauma on the younger brother. End quote.” Nick looks up to find Dean staring at him in horror, mouth agape.</p>
<p>“That’s complete and utter <i>bullshit</i>!”</p>
<p>Nick hums in agreement. “Mmh. It gets better. The same person who gave those recommendations to the CPS, allegedly because Sam trusted in him and asked to be saved, wrote this to the ruling council of the church owning the orphanage you were staying at. A council he is part of, I might mention.” Nick flips a paper over and reads. “Sam Winchester is a child beset by Satan. He is cursed, filled with demonic evils, and lies compulsively. I fear there is no salvation for him. Nevertheless, due to his young age, and my own generosity and graciousness, I take it upon myself to raise the child, and devote myself fully to banishing those demons. By the grace of God, I will bring him back into the light, so that he may lead a good life, as a proper Christian, whence he reaches adulthood. End quote.”</p>
<p>If Dean’s eyes widen any further, they’ll pop out. “What does it mean? What the fuck does that <i>mean</i>? I was told Sammy was adopted by a Christian family. That he was happy and living a good life. The fuck are you saying?”</p>
<p>“Who told you that, Dean? And did you believe them? Was it the same people you’ve been fighting all your life? Because if it was, why would you believe them about this, when you clearly didn’t trust them with anything else?” Nick leans back and laces his fingers together over his stomach.</p>
<p>“Quit fucking with me, man. What was that bullshit about being beset by Satan? What does it all mean?”</p>
<p>If Nick had any doubts as to if Dean still cared about his brother, the desperation in his eyes laid them to rest. Dean certainly hadn’t forgotten his promise, nor forgot about his little brother. “Depends on how you look at it. In the eyes of the state, and the heads of the church, it means that the Pastor in question is very concerned about little Sam, wanting his best, and generous enough to sacrifice his own freedom by taking on the responsibility for Sam himself.” Nick pauses. “Or, if you look at it from another angle… A man comes into a bathroom to see an innocent little boy happily playing with someone’s dick, unaware of any fault-doing. He quickly separates the boy from all the people he knows, makes it impossible for the boy’s family to find him, fabricates a history of sexual abuse for the boy, gets it on paper that the boy is a compulsive liar, and secures himself as the boy’s sole guardian until adulthood. Now why, one might think, would anyone do that?” Nick muses and drums a finger against his lips mock-thoughtfully.</p>
<p>The color drains from Dean’s face. He can obviously imagine the less than pious reasons. “No.” He utters the word quietly like he doesn’t want to believe it.</p>
<p>Nick shrugs. “Perhaps not.”</p>
<p>“Why’s FBI interested in this?”</p>
<p>“To the extent of my knowledge, they aren’t. But you’ve caused quite a lot of trouble in here, making the chance of early parole next to nonexistent. Plus gotten yourself banned from having visitors. Except from your lawyer, and, of course, law enforcement in need of interrogating you.” Nick leans forward and crosses his arms on top of the file on the table. He smiles a closelipped smile with sharp eyes.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” Dean’s not dumb. He catches on.</p>
<p>“A friend of Sam’s. Perhaps his only one. Which, incidentally, means he’s shit at choosing friends. But here it is. He’s been waiting patiently for you to come to save him. He understood enough, to get that you might not be able to come until you turned 18. You never came, so now he’s trying to find you and I promised I’d help. It didn’t take me long to dig you up. I haven’t told him about it yet, though. Perhaps I never will. It all depends on you. When I get him out of his current place, I don’t want him to find out that you no longer care about him, that he’s been holding on to a false hope all these years. If that’s how it is, Dean, I’ll let him hold onto the idea that you’re out there somewhere, looking for him. But if you’ve held true, as Sam thinks, I’ll see you reunited.”</p>
<p>“Can you get me out of prison?”</p>
<p>Nick laughs. “Nice try, kiddo. Do I look like a wizard to you? No. You’re stupid enough to not only get caught, but to cause so much trouble they won’t let you out on early parole, you can rot in here until your time’s up. I’m sure I could arrange for a visit, though. Believe me when I say that Sammy won’t give a shit that you’re in an orange jumpsuit. The Pastor’s right about Sam having quite a Devil’s side. Although, it’s safe to say, the Pastor put it there.”</p>
<p>So many emotions are shifting on Dean’s face, micro-expressions that are hard to catch. Nick assesses that Dean keeps everything within, except anger, and right now, there’s no anger. Dean lifts his hands, sips his cold coffee while scrutinizing Nick, trying to find the catch, to see if it’s a trap somehow. “Everything I’ve done, every crime I’ve ever committed, since they took Sammy from me, has been in an effort to find him,” he says at long last.</p>
<p>Nick raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Sexual assault…?”</p>
<p>Dean makes a frustrated face. “Hey, man. Just because I got convicted for it doesn’t mean I’m fucking guilty of it.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough. Tell me your side of the story, so I don’t have to make my decisions based solely on this bullshit. Start from the bathtub incident,” Nick says and holds up the folder.</p>
<p>Dean hesitates for a beat, then… “I’d only had a bath in a bathtub once before. Back before Sam was born, so it was the second time for me. Before that, we had quick showers in cramped shower cabins where the water would run cold in the blink of an eye. Dad never had to admonish us not to touch each other that way, because there were never any situations where the idea might occur to us. The life we led… we squatted in abandoned houses a lot. Slept on the floor, huddled together all three of us for warmth. Sex was definitely not part of our life in any way, survival was. Yeah, I got a boner when Sammy touched me. I didn’t know what the hell was happening, except it felt awesome and real fucking embarrassing at the same time.”</p>
<p>“Surely, you must have had a boner before.”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah. That thing popped up whenever it pleased for no discernable reason. Dad just told me to hide it or take care of it in private. But we never <i>had</i> privacy. Until Sam and I were in that fucking bathtub and my fucking ignorance got us separated.”</p>
<p>“No. An opportunistic, sexual predator got you separated. You bear no more guilt in it than Sam does. You’re the ones who’ve been let down by every fucking adult around you. But please, continue…”</p>
<p>By the way muscles twitch in Dean’s face, Nick wonders if anyone has ever told him, he’s not at fault.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. The Hunter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick makes another visit to a prisoner and learns more about his new, underaged love interest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>The Hunter</h3>
<p>Nick pulls the same stunt a few days later, to visit John Winchester. The Winchesters got some fine genes going on, all three of them. John isn’t what he expects. John, unlike Dean, is a model prisoner. He’d be out on parole in no time, had he not been serving several lifetimes’ worth of time. Nick <i>likes</i> John. Sharp, down to earth, and witty in an intelligent way that requires that you’re able to read between two or three layers of lines.</p>
<p>Nick doesn’t pussyfoot around the older Marine. He tells him he’s there because of Sam and Dean, giving John the first word about his sons since his incarceration. He’s grateful for the news, even if it’s grave news. Nick even lets him read through the whole folder he brought, containing all the official documentation on the boys.</p>
<p>“John, it’s my intention to reunite your boys again, and to help Sam get away from the abuse he’s suffering today. Sam has won my loyalty and friendship. But I set the bar for him, where I set it for myself, and as such I might not be the best role model. I’m not… I’m not what you’d call a morally upstanding citizen. I don’t intend to go through ordinary channels. I’ve respected your son’s wish not to go to the police or CPS, and by doing so I’ve allowed the abuse to go on until I can make sure he’ll never suffer through anything like it again... unless he seeks it out, wishing for it. My methods may be a bit… unsanctioned by the general public, as you may have discerned.” He holds up his FBI badge briefly, with a meaningful look. John was quick to pick up on that he wasn’t a real agent, based on the things he said, even if he didn’t admit it outright. This is a quick reminder of that. “I don’t yet know if Sam and Dean wish to visit you. If they do, I’ll arrange for it. If they don’t, I’ll honor Sam’s wishes before yours. I hope you can understand that.”</p>
<p>John nods, lips quirked in a little smirk. </p>
<p>“I don’t yet know about Dean, but I know that Sam, at least, shows sexual interest in both females and males. I myself was disowned because of my flexible preferences and my refusal to deny them. If it’s a problem for you that Sam’s bisexual, I’m not going to arrange for him to come here, even if he wants to. He’s gone through too much crap to face rejection from his father.”</p>
<p>John smiles and shakes his head in amusement, looking down at his lap. When he looks up again his eyes are sharp. “I love my sons Mr. Williams. I wouldn’t reject them even if they grew up to be an embodiment of evil. I know I can appear old fashioned to many, but homophobia isn’t on my list of character flaws.”</p>
<p>A muscle by Nick’s eye starts twitching at the mention of his real name. It’s not within his control, and John notices.</p>
<p>“Oh, I knew who you were the moment you set foot in here, Nick. My former occupation led me to read the newspapers meticulously. You got caught in the background of photos of your father and older brother sometimes. Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you,” John assures.</p>
<p>“Fair enough. Your former occupation, you say? Your dossier says you were unemployed after you retired from the Marines. Are you talking about the career that put you here?”</p>
<p>John nods. </p>
<p>“I’m curious about one thing… I’ve tried to figure out a pattern to how you chose your victims. Could you tell me about it? I’m not asking you to divulge any details that may lead to further trouble for you, but I find it all puzzling, to say the least. Now that I’ve gotten to know one son of yours, and met the other, I’ve also come to wonder if the darkness in them is purely circumstantial, or if genetics can be an influence. Care to shed some more light on the puzzle that is Sam Winchester?”</p>
<p>John chuckles. “It may be partially a genetic streak. It’s hard to tell. I’ll tell you, because it isn’t really a secret, even though they don’t want the media to hear about it. It’s a family business. The Winchesters have always been hunters. I was raised to be one, and I would have raised my sons accordingly. You ever felt the bloodthirst, Nick? Smelt the blood in the water and felt compelled to check it out? Maybe join in on the feast?” John asks rhetorically. He snorts in silent amusement at what he sees in Nick’s face. “You have then. No wonder Sam sniffed you out.”</p>
<p>“Family business. Your dad raised you to become a killer?”</p>
<p>“Mhm. As his father before him, and so on. We hunt monsters. Not monsters as in vampires, werewolves, and that kind of made-up crap, but human monsters. Although, I gotta tell you, there’s been a couple of instances in the family tree, where my ancestors have gone off their rockers, and actually believed the monsters we hunt are fairytale monsters. That aside, we track down the worst wrongdoers that got away. The ones the law can’t reach, or let off the hook on technicalities.”</p>
<p>“Vigilante assassins.”</p>
<p>“Precisely.”</p>
<p>“I can see why they don’t want the press to get a whiff at that.”</p>
<p>“Mhm. Neither do I. I can imagine the number of copycats that’d kill people based on rumors, not bothering to do all the research, investigation, and fact-checking required for the job. If I was still active, I’d have my hands full with them alone. Winchesters aren’t after fame or gratitude. We don’t want to be acknowledged. That’s why you won’t find a pattern. A lot of my victims had gotten away cleanly. To the public, or the police, they seemed innocent. You read my file. Morgan Aldrich? Remember him?”</p>
<p>“25-year-old college student. Well-liked, good student, charity worker. Yes, I know the case.”</p>
<p>“If you read up on news surrounding the area, you’ll find that a violent serial rapist held several towns under terror for almost a full year, then suddenly disappeared. Incidentally about the time Aldrich died. Of course, the police didn’t see the connection since his body wasn’t recovered until two years later. If you want to see my pattern, Nick, you have to look at the news in the area at the time, before the people died, or trace them through several moves, as well as look into accidents and timely deaths surrounding them through the years. I haven’t killed on a whim. If I’m not sure, I’ve backed off.” John pauses, then with a pointed look adds, “Whether I wanted to or not.”</p>
<p>Nick’s nostrils flare. Blood in the water. The Winchesters are predators, and predators are going to hunt. They’ve simply redirected the monster in them to hunt other monsters, much like a dog will sniff out drugs rather than prey, if asked to. John’s not denying what he is, just draping it in a package that can be acceptable to a person with a strong conscience, if scrutinized.</p>
<p>Nick thinks about Sam’s behavior. <i>You really do have it in your blood, don’t you?</i> </p>
<p>“Does it never happen that the person you hunt, turns out to be another hunter?”</p>
<p>“It has happened.”</p>
<p>“Then what do you do?”</p>
<p>“Leave them be.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough. Has it ever happened that a Winchester didn’t want to become a hunter?”</p>
<p>“It has.”</p>
<p>“Then what has your family done?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. Family comes first. Sadly, as far back in history as I know, they’ve always ended up becoming the things we hunt. But family always comes first.”</p>
<p>Nick hums. In light of this, it’s a testament to how fucked up Nick is, that it makes him want to own Sam so much more. And maybe Dean too, as an afterthought.</p><hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. What happens in Vegas...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nick works on his plan to get Annie to agree with Sam's demands.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>What happens in Vegas…</h3>
<p>He buys Annie a diamond necklace, because nothing says ‘please, fuck another guy ’ like diamonds. He makes love to her that night, pretending to be starry eyed and in love with her without saying it out loud, focusing solely on her pleasure and her turn ons. Gabe gives him a credit card belonging to their dad, so he takes Annie out shopping the next day, telling her not to look at the price tag. This time―probably because she overheard Gabe worry about her ‘using him for his money’―she doesn’t ask how he can afford it. He lets her catch him checking out another guy. She doesn’t call him out on it.</p>
<p>He does romantic gestures, courts her, makes her feel special, then drops little comments to plant ideas and insecurity in her. Gabe informs him that he mentioned to Annie not to act possessive over Nick if she wants to keep him. ‘Nothing drives Nick off faster than possessive and jealous behavior.’ It isn’t remotely true when it comes to people he’s fallen in love with, or like a lot. Gabe’s also said ‘He’s loyal to a fault.’ Which is completely true. (Only, in this case, his loyalty towards Sam trumps his loyalty towards Annie.) ‘If you’ve required fidelity, that’s what you’ll get. He won’t cheat, he’ll break it off before he touches another.’ Also true. But he hasn’t promised her fidelity. Nor has she asked for it.</p>
<p>All these things Gabe’s worked into the conversation over the days he’s entertained Annie in Nick’s absence. Small statements designed to make her less likely to make demands, and more likely to agree to the sexual deviance. It’s Nick’s goal to make it a pleasurable experience for all three of them when it goes down. Gabe has also told tales from their youth, true ones, leaving out that they're brothers. Gabe pretends to become too personal when he’s drunk, apologizes to her because she’s an employee, to which Annie says she doesn’t mind as long as her job isn’t at risk. They come to an agreement that what happens in Vegas, stays there. </p>
<p>It opens up for openly talking about sex with Gabe in Annie’s presence. Most nights end in Gabe’s suite, the three of them drinking champagne and talking about everything. Words are important when it comes to declaring respect. They don’t say ‘slut’, they say ‘woman who owns their sexuality’. They don’t say ‘whores’, they say ‘working girls’. That’s not really an act. They’d be just as likely to say slut or whore without Annie participating in the conversation, but to them, the words don’t bear negativity. Why look down on a woman when she shares their sexual appetite? They don’t, even if they’re raised to. Something they both despise, though, is a woman or man who plays up their sexuality, then don’t deliver when push comes to shove. It’s not those who suddenly opt-out altogether that Nick and Gabe sneer at, but those who turn into dead fish, who don’t ‘participate’. “You don’t want to? Say no, for fucks sake! Or don’t go around teasing about BJs and wild sex if you’re not up for it.”</p>
<p>“False advertising sucks,” Gabe agrees. “Don’t go faking a blowjob on your lollipop as part of your seduction routine, if you’re disgusted by the thought of taking a dick in your mouth.”</p>
<p>“Amen. And I don’t get what’s so disgusting about it?”</p>
<p>“Hells no! Giving BJs is God damned <i>nice</i>.”</p>
<p>“You both do that?” Annie chimes in. She’s tucked in under Nick’s arm in the big, soft leather sofa, sipping her champagne with contentment.</p>
<p>“Hells yeah,” Gabe confirms.</p>
<p>“Do you spit or swallow?” Annie asks, biting her lip over a smile. She’s been subjected to <i>all</i> kinds of people over the week. Her curiosity is amping up.</p>
<p>“I think the question is posed wrongly. It should be ‘Do you dodge or swallow’,” Nick muses.</p>
<p>“I do both. Either. Never dodge though,” Gabe answers.</p>
<p>Nick screws up his face and tilts his head, looking at Gabe. “Really? <i>Never</i>?” He’s got one hand interlaced with Annie’s, stroking it with his thumb.</p>
<p>“Nope,” Gabe says, popping the P.</p>
<p>“So by dodge you mean…?” Annie asks.</p>
<p>“Pull off and avoid the load,” Nick clarifies. “If I want it in my mouth, I’ll swallow, if I don’t I’ll pop off and try to avoid getting any on me, or on my face at least.”</p>
<p>“I’m not surprised in the least.” Gabe directs himself to Annie. “Nick here has some weird macho thing going, in his head. He’ll see symbolism where there is none.”</p>
<p>“I do not,” Nick complains, making Annie giggle at his petulant tone.</p>
<p>“Hells yeah, you do. Of all the people I know, you’re the one I can most easily envision coming on somebody, then rub it in, going,” Gabe changes his voice, does smearing gestures with his hands, and leerily says, “<i>Yez. Zhiz is mine now. Zer is all miiiine.</i>”</p>
<p>Nick laughs. “Fuck you! And when did I become German all of a sudden?”</p>
<p>“Hey, I don’t hear you denying it,” Gabe sniggers.</p>
<p>Nick smirks and shrugs. </p>
<p>“How about you, Annie? Do you spit, dodge, or swallow?” Gabe asks, throws one glance at Nick, and bursts out laughing. “Nevermind. Nick’s smug face tells it all.”</p>
<p>Annie laughs. “Yes, well. I get into it when I have sex. No need to beat around the bush about that. Say, have you two ever…” she gestures with a finger between the two of them. “...with each other.”</p>
<p>“Nope. Nu-uh. We’ve shared. Two-on-one style, but we don’t touch each other that way. Maybe it’s because we grew up together, but we’re more like, more like brothers.”</p>
<p>“Mhm. I love Gabe to bits, and I gladly share with him, but that’s it. I’ve never felt like I want to do more than that.”</p>
<p>“Sharing? Pffft. Too bad you went and brought an employee of mine, or the three of us could have had some <i>real</i> fun.”</p>
<p>“Hey, it’s not my fault you’ve got… <i>ethics</i>,” Nick counters, uttering the word ‘ethics’ like it tastes disgusting. Then both men snigger at each other, and Annie joins in with a giggle.</p>
<p>When it’s time to leave Gabe disappears to the toilet for a beat. Nick stands up, pulls Annie up in an embrace, kisses her, and backs them towards the door. He strokes her back, cups her asscheeks, and breaks the kiss to whisper in Annie’s ear. “Do you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to give Gabe a little sneak preview of what he can’t have. Tease him a bit.” He grabs the fabric of her dress and gently pulls it up, in a way that she can feel he’s doing it. It’s meant as a question. She isn’t wearing any panties, just like he likes it.  “Yes or no?”</p>
<p>Annie’s gaze snaps to his, eyes wide and startled/excited. They’d been talking sex all evening and she’s tipsy. She likes Gabe, is comfortable around him. Nick gives it an 80% chance of a― “Yes…” she whispers back.</p>
<p>Bingo.</p>
<p>He smirks. “If you feel embarrassed, just close your eyes,” he says then kisses her again, languidly, deeply. When Gabe comes back into the room he slowly bunches up her dress in his fist, uncovering her ass for Gabe. Gabe stops to watch. Doesn’t say anything. Annie arches her back, and when Nick nudges her leg with his knee, she spreads them. He makes a show of it, and she plays along. When he gently pushes her waist with one hand and pulls with the other to make her turn around, she goes with it. He kisses her neck, strokes her breasts, and lowers the dress incrementally slow, to bare them for Gabe. Annie’s blushing, keeping her eyes closed, but moves her hips, rolling them against his crotch sensually. He pinches her nipples and she moans. Gabe mutters ‘Oh, darn’ under his breath. Nick smirks against the skin of Annie’s neck. He lifts the dress back in place, spins Annie back to face him again, reaches behind him to open the door, winks at Gabe, then slinks out, pulling Annie along.</p>
<p>Annie collapses in giggles almost as soon as the door closes behind them. “Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that! And he’s my boss!” </p>
<p>Nick laughs and tugs her close. “Well, young lady, I like to be envied. And you, darling, are something well worth envying.” He sticks his hand under her skirt and feels her pussy with a finger. She’s wet. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs and puts his wet finger in his mouth to suck it clean.</p>
<p>“Yes,” she answers in breathy excitement.</p>
<p>“Good. So did I. Let’s go to our room so I can show you exactly how much I liked it.”</p>
<p>All in all, it’s a good vacation except how much Nick misses his snarky teenage neighbor.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please comment. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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